These Violent Passions Have Violent Ends
by Cgal the Avenger
Summary: In the day, she is a prisoner, captured by Judge Claude Frollo, subjected to his terrible lust. He only wants her for her flesh; or does he? But each night, Esmeralda runs out into the city, avenging the outcasts of France as a mysterious vigilante. Bad summary, starts off after Phoebus is brought to the bell-tower WARNING: contains scenes of violence and rape
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Thank you my friend,"

With those parting words, Esmeralda and the other gypsies ran down the steps, quickly yet quietly. Esmeralda's heart pounded in her chest. "Stop," said Brutus, the man who had helped carried Phoebus here. Esmeralda halted, as the man peered outside the door, checking for soldiers. "It's clear," he murmured.

Esmeralda and Brutus ran outside together. She pulled on her cloak and hid Dali within its folds.

The two gypsies crept ran through the streets.

Suddenly, in the silence of the night, a horse's whinny rang out, turning Esmeralda's blood to ice. She looked back, and saw Judge Claude Frollo atop his black steed, thundering down the cobblestones.

Frollo had waited outside, and had watched as the two figures crept out of the Cathedral. It was then he had mounted his horse, and pursued the two guilty individuals.

Esmeralda began to run, urging Brutus to flee faster. The man looked and saw the judge taking pursuit, and began to sprint away.

Esmeralda turned into a nearby alleyway, urging herself to go faster. Her sides hurt, and her legs burned, but still she sprinted, an incomparable fear pressing her to flee faster. Brutus was ahead of her.

Frollo was enraged. The closest gypsy was slowing down. Filled with boiling rage, he reached out and yanked the gypsy down, hurling her towards the stones of the streets.

Esmeralda fell to the ground her hands and knees taking the brunt of her fall. Brutus stopped ahead of her, taking out his dagger. "No!" she screamed, her voice breathless. "Go!" she choked out. Before Frollo grabbed her, she let go of her goat, letting Brutus run away with him.

Frollo pushed back the gypsies cloak with forceful hands to reveal the face of the gypsy Esmeralda, a face which had haunted his dreams for weeks. Esmeralda looked up into the face of her captor, and felt instant fear. Not him. Anyone but him.

Frollo dismounted his horse and pulled up the gypsy by her glossy, raven-colored hair, eliciting a cry from her soft lips. She tried fighting, struggling against his iron-like grip. But he responded only by laying blows to her head and face, striking her with more ferocity each time. Each blow hurt more and more, and sent involunatary tears to her eyes. Frollo's face was twisted into one of rage, of unmerciful anger.

HE should order the soldiers to come here, to arrest her. He should torture her, interrogate her to find the Court of Miracles. That was his duty. That was the law.

But... seeing her here, at his mercy... her lusty form entirely under his control... he made a different decision. A leering smile spread across his face, sending a chill down Esmeralda's spine. From his saddlebags, he took out handcuffs and pulled her wrists into them. She struggled again, and spat at his face. Instantly, Frollo's smile disappeared and his face twisted into one of rage. With sudden ferocity, he smashed his hand across her face. The blow sent her reeling to the ground, and she cried out in pain.

He pulled her up, roughly grabbing her arms. "Let go of me! Stop-"Shut up you insufferable witch!" he snarled, taking out his dagger and holding it against her throat. Esmeralda froze as she felt cold steel press against her skin, leaving a hot stinging trail of blood on her neck.

"Up! Get up!" he hissed, pressing the knife harder on her neck. Shaking, she got to her feet, facing her enemy. For a moment, she stared into his cold, dark, soulless eyes, paralyzed with fear.

With slow, careful actions, Frollo's pale fingers twisted in her purple skirt. He hiked it up, and Esmeralda's eyes widened, a new fear filling her. Still pressing the knife insistently at her throat, Frollo pushed the skirt back higher, higher...up to her firm, brown thigh.

In an instant, Esmeralda's whole being went cold. She now saw a new, dangerous flame filling the judge's eyes... one which burnt in the Cathedral as he had groped at her neck.

Frollo found it difficult to concentrate as his eyes traveled over flesh. His skin felt hot, too hot. He found the dagger strapped to her leg, and quickly disarmed her, tossing the knife away from her. Esmeralda began to tremble, now completely vulnerable. Frollo forced himself to let go of her skirt. Soon, he thought. The anticipation set him on edge, and he could feel a deep, carnal pang within his abdomen. I must have her.

Frollo mounted his horse, his ringed fingers tightening around her shoulder. With brute strength, Frollo pulled her up onto the horse, still pressing the dagger to her back. Frollo looked back over his shoulder, checking to see that the soldiers had not followed him. Esmeralda was paralyzed, the sharp point of the blade silencing any cries she could have made.

With a swift kick to his steed, the black horse lurched forward, the sound of its hoofbeats the only noise in the night.

xxx

Frollo rode on until he approached the dark shadowy castle which was his home. Quickly, he opened the black iron gates of the wall which surrounded his residence, and then rode the horse to the entrance of the castle. "Down," he ordered Esmeralda, pressing the knife more insistently at her back. Unable to comprehend what was happening, Esmeralda clumsily slipped down from the horse, limited by Frollo's restraining hand that gripped her shoulder. "What are you-"Silence!" he hissed.

He dismounted and then twisted her arm , making her wince in pain. "We find ourselves in this same position yet again, witch," he said, his dark tone sending chills down her spine. "Except now, no archdeacon is coming to your rescue."

He pushed the gypsy girl forward, and kicked open the large wooden door. Esmeralda's feet stumbled along the cold stones of Frollo's residence.

With urgency, Frollo pushed the young woman down the corridors only lit by the torches. He pulled her up the stairs, all the while pointing the tip of the knife into her back. He then opened one of the many doors which were present in the hall. Frollo roughly pushed the gypsy inside and slammed the door behind her, and with a metallic, grinding sound, locked her in.

With growing fear, Esmeralda began to scream, banging her fists on the door. "Let me out! Please!" she screeched. She looked out the small window and attempted to open it. Locked. And even if she could open it, there was no way she could climb down without breaking a leg.

The walls seemed to close in around her, and a creeping feeling of dread came upon her. She launched herself at the door in vain, over and over again.

All the while she screamed, hoping someone, anyone, would hear her.

For what seemed like forever, she screamed and begged. Her voice grew hoarse, and she could feel a bruise begin to form on her shoulder from where she had tried to beat down the door. Esmeralda then stopped, and slumped down, her head in her hands. In her heart, she knew the worst was yet to come. As she buried her head in her arms, Judge Frollo's leering smile appearing each time as she closed her eyes.

xxx

Judge Frollo had ordered the servants away from the West Wing where the gypsy girl was imprisoned. He had waited many hours, until the banging on the door and the screaming had stopped.

He could no longer wait. He needed to assuage his craving, to quell his lust which had kept him awake many nights. Her gorgeous form was his; her breasts his; her sex his.

The gypsy girl had tempted him. Had presented herself to him and tortured his senses on the day of the Feast of Fools. The little witch had cast her spell...and she would pay for it.

He unlocked the door and strode in, removing his hat. The girl sprang to her feet, her fists balled. Her emerald eyes glanced quickly around the room, looking for some weapon, something to help her.

"You will find no instruments to save you from your damnation, witch," he said, his voice even and sinister. His eyes wandered down her form which lay underneath her blouse and skirt, sending an ice cold chill down Esmeralda's spine.

She suddenly comprehended why he had brought her here, why she hadn't been turned in to the soldiers. "You.. you lecher!" she gasped, her tone filled with disgust. Rage flared up in Frollo, and he lurched forward, grabbing her by the hair and throwing her at his feet. "It is you who is to blame you slut! You have tempted a virtuous man!" he roared, grabbing her by the neck. He squeezed his fingers, feeling absolute hatred for this harlot who had danced herself in front of him, who had shamelessly teased him with her body.

He threw her down onto the bed, where she lay for a moment, gasping for air. His bony pale hands reached for her clothes. Esmeralda tried to combat him, kicking and squirming out of his grasp. But his iron-like grip found her, pinning her underneath him. "No!" she screamed, frightened and disgusted by the monster who slammed her into the bed.

With ferocity, Frollo took one hand and ripped off her blouse, exposing her ample chest to him. He placed his knees on her struggling legs, roughly pinning them down onto the bed. He unceremoniously took off his robes and undid his pants so that his cock which had been swelling beneath his clothes, sprung free. His bony fingers flung up her skirt, revealing all of her delicious form to him.

The sight of her naked body was better than he could have ever imagined. He placed his hands on her breasts, feeling their supple, smoothness. Her nipples erected because of the cold air. His eyes traveled down taking in her hips, her sex nestled beneath a mound of black curls, her form rivaling Venus herself. His mouth was dry, and his blood roared within his body.

Esmeralda screamed, begging, pleading someone to hear her. She tried to wrench herself free but his hands pinned hers to the bed, his knees crushed her thighs open. Panic swelled in her chest as she felt his engorged member rub around her thighs.

The minister plunged himself into her, groaning as his burning cock now found relief between her thighs. She screamed in pain as he thrust faster and faster, taking what he wanted from the gypsy. Tears rolled down from her eyes as he ripped through her, thrusting harder and faster. Frollo looked down at her lustful form which squirmed as she tried to fight him off in some way. She cried out in pain.

For what seemed like an eternity, he senselessly thrust within her, exacting his terrible revenge on her body. His hands so gripped her wrists that his rings dug savagely into her skin, drawing blood. As he groaned and burst into a fiery ecstasy, Esmeralda despaired and was reduced into hysterics. He finally ejaculated into her, ending his celibacy and her nightmare in one fell swoop.

For a moment, he lay on top of her, relishing the feel of her womanhood on his cock. The sound of her pained gasps and sobs were the only noise in the room.

Frollo slipped out of her, and in the low light, watched as she bled her first blood onto the white sheets. Surprised, he looked up at the gypsy, whose emerald eyes leaked tears. "A virtuous witch. How contradictory," he said. She didn't respond.

He pulled on his robes, and left the room, locking it behind him. She sobbed to herself, covering her violated body with the sheets


	2. Chapter 2

Esmeralda stared at the ceiling until morning. The shock of what had just occurred plagued her mind, and she couldn't think of anything else. Every-time she closed her eyes, she would see his deviant, maniacal face as he had raped her. She was shaking, paralyzed with horror. The metallic smell of blood-her blood-filled her nostrils. Every part of her hurt. Bruises already appeared on her legs and arms from where he had roughly pinned her down. Her wrists were bleeding, staining the sheets. Each time she attempted to move, a powerful aching pain shot through her lower abdomen.

As the light of the dawn streamed in through her window, Esmeralda heard a metallic click at her door, and Frollo strode in, the keys enclosed within his ringed fingers. Upon seeing him, she flew into a panic, starting to hyperventilate as she tried to crawl out of bed, away from him. "No!" she said, her voice hoarse and cracking. "Good morning, little harlot. Was your rest beneficial?" he said, his tone sadistic.

She was shaking violently now, gathering the sheets around her naked body. She sat up and curled into a ball, pleading, praying that he would not take her again. She was so angry at him that it seemed as though he head was on fire. Her fists balled up.

"Ah, ah, ah, I would not become so violent if I were you. Seeing as I know exactly where this so called Court of Miracles lies," he said turning away from her and then smiling to himself.

Esmeralda's mouth fell open, as absolute terror gripped her heart. She felt sick to her stomach as she imagined the ways her people would suffer. "No," she whispered, tears running down her face.

Frollo turned around, a smirk on his cruel face. "Ah yes my dear. That friend of yours? What's his name, Brutus was a tough nut to crack. But I mentioned freeing you and he opened like an oyster," he said, his voice sickening to her. "Brutus would never," she responded, her voice full of hate. "Ah, but you have never experienced the glory which is my torture chamber," he said. The girl now shook violently, and her eyes widened in fear.

"But you can save them my dear. You can save them all. It is a simple bargain. Stay with me, and let yourself come under my control in a...myriad of ways," he said, his tone sending an ice-like feeling over her skin. "And I will let the Court of Miracles go undiscovered. However, if you disobey me, I will see to it that Paris burns with their bodies as kindling!" he continued viciously.

Esmeralda's eyes filled with tears as she realized the impossibility of her choice. She had to stay with him. There was no other choice. "Fine," she exhaled, her voice filled with a venom of her own.

"Good girl." He responded, turning away from her. He looked on his prize one last time before closing the door behind him

He had lied. He still had no idea where this Court of Miracles was. Brutus had escaped before the soldiers had any information form him.

But, the opportunity of having his temptress encased within his stone walls, at his command... that could not be passed up.

xxx

Esmeralda lay in bed for another few hours, weeping silently to herself. But a knock at the door startled her, sending her scrambling to her feet. "Breakfast," exclaimed a feminine voice from behind the door.

Esmeralda tried in vain to put on her clothes, only to find that they had been ripped to shreds by the minister's hands. She bit her lip and wrapped the sheet tightly around her, and shakily walked to the door, pain shooting through her abdomen. "The door's locked," she rasped out. A metallic click answered her, and a maid walked in, carrying a tray and a basin of water.

"The minister would like for you to wash up using this," she said, averting her eyes from the gypsy. Esmeralda tried to meet her gaze, but the maid's eyes remained fixed away from her.

"Thank you," she said weakly, taking the food and basin. "Excuse me, but may I have some other clothes?" she said, feeling embarrassed. "The minister says he will provide clothes for you to wear tonight at dinner."

"Why not give me any now?" she said. "That is all the minister ordered me to do," she said, and she tried to leave the room. However, Esmeralda grabbed her arm, and began to plead with her.

"Please, help me. Please at least give me some clothing!" she said, her voice weak. The maid looked up at her, her eyes filled with pity. "I'm sorry, but the minister has his orders.

With that comment, she left the room, locking the door behind her. Esmeralda gritted her teeth to keep herself from crying out in despair. She sat on the bed again, burying her head in her hands. She eventually straightened up, and looked to the basin of water and washcloth.

With slow movements, she got up and shed the towel, wincing as she saw the bruises on her legs and the matted blood between her legs and on her wrists. She stepped into the cold water, and took the soap and began to clean herself.

As she did, she was aware of his stench on her body, repugnant to her nostrils. She began to scrub harder, remembering all of the dirty things he had done to her body. As she scrubbed, the livid memory of his touches, his thrusts into her flashed before her eyes. She scrubbed even harder, wanting to rip the very skin off of her body. She began to sob as she pressed the washcloth to every part of her.

With a strangled gasp, she sat on the floor, rocking back and forth on her heels, sobbing quietly to herself.

xxx

For the entire day, she sat, too terrified to sleep, yet too exhausted to move. She wrapped the gashes on her arms carefully with the remains of her blouse. She stared out the window, hoping to glance somebody from the outside world. She felt as if she were in a world of her own. She watched as the sun began to dip, and a feeling of dread was within her soul yet again. Frollo would be home soon.

As darkness began to fall on the outside world, the maid came into the room, carrying with her clothing.

"Minister Frollo requests your presence at dinner. He also requests you wear this,"

The maid, a woman only a few years older than her, handed Esmeralda the red dress. "Is this a request, or an order?" Esmeralda said wryly. She got up, her legs shaking underneath her. The last thing she wanted was to sit across from that monster, let alone talk to him. Esmeralda pulled on the red dress. Tight at the bodice, the scooped neck dipped low enough to reveal her cleavage. Esmeralda laughed bitterly. Of course this had to be the dress that was chosen for her to wear. Red. The color of a harlot.

She followed the maid on shaky legs, trying to memorize the passages so that she could make an escape. However, the hallways were much like their owner's soul, twisted and dark. The gypsy girl shivered, wishing to whatever god was above that this was all a dream. A nightmare.

She was shown into a large room, lit only by the magnificent warmth of the roaring fire blazing in the hearth. She sighed, grateful for the warmth in this room, She sat at the end of the simple, wooden table laden with food that could have fed her caravan for a week. She frowned, disgusted by the decadence. So, this was the charity of the church Frollo so valued? Stockpiling food in here, leaving the poor starving outside.

With a slam of the door, Frollo entered the room, his cloak billowing around him. He sat at the table his dark eyes blazing. He looked up, and the slow, simpering smile spread across his face. Esmeralda shivered, but decided to steel herself and not let him know of her fear.

"What are you waiting for? Dig in," he said, his long arm motioning towards the food. Esmeralda did not want to admit her weakness to him, but her stomach was panging with hunger. She grabbed a leg of mutton and ripped the meat off, gobbling it down. She kept looking down unable to look at the monster in front of her.

Frollo's eyes wandered over Esmeralda's lustrous, supple body. In an instant, her naked body appeared before his eyes. A slow triumphant grin spread on his face. He cleared his throat, attempting to gain her attention. She still did not look up. "I trust that the food is to your liking?" he asked coolly.

She stopped eating and shot him a look of anger. Esmeralda could feel her muscles tense She wanted to beat this man, to strike the insidious smirk off his face.

"Come now, gypsy. Speak. If this arrangement is going to work, you'll need to be cooperative," he said, meshing his long bony fingers together. His rings clacked against each other, an unpleasant noise in Esmeralda's ears.

"Fine then. Yes the food is fine. However, I can't help thinking that a man who prides a church whose sins include gluttony sure has a lot of unnecessary food on this table," she said bitterly.

"Ah so the pagan is well versed in the ways of our Lord. But you forget that it is not gluttony if the food is consumed by a deserving, virtuous soul." He said, automatically countering her. "I completely understand now. But tell me, where is this soul you keep talking so much about?" she said dryly.

"Watch your tongue, witch. You alone decide what happens in your Court of Miracles. I wouldn't have such a foul mouth if I were you," he said, his tone growing sharper.

She looked down, her face sullen and angered. He poured a glass of wine for himself, peering at her from over his wineglass.

"You can't keep me here forever," she muttered. "What is that?" he said.

"I said you can't keep me here forever. The gossip from your neighbors will be most detrimental to that damn reputation you try so hard to maintain," she said. "Who says that the neighbors will ever see you? " he said wickedly. She looked up, her eyes narrowing. "Rest assured, gypsy. Special precautions have been taken to make sure no one but I and the staff know of your stay here."

His own words sent a thrill of exhilaration within him.

"The staff will gossip."

"Oh but they won't," he said sinisterly, and Esmeralda could understand why any servant would stay quiet rather than face the wrath of Judge Frollo.

As Esmeralda continued to eat, she eyed Frollo venomously but warily, knowing that this man was now her tormentor and-dare she say it?-had incalculable power over her.


	3. Chapter 3

The gypsy girl was escorted to her room. Unable to contain his own bodily desires, Frollo waited for the maid to depart. Once she had, Frollo was at the door and flung it open.

The girl was naked. Instantly, his own member became engorged. Esmeralda turned, frightened. She tried to shield herself from his prying eyes, tried to pull on her nightgown quickly. However, Frollo had already pushed her against the wall and greedily kissed her, plunging his tongue within her lips. She tasted so tantalizingly good, her mouth more intoxicating than any spirits upon this earth. He moaned as he sucked her lips , a fervent overwhelming need burning within him.

She squirmed under his grip, automatically trying to fight him off. Her abdomen ached with pain. "Please! I hurt!" she gasped out as he began to bite and suck at her neck.

"You hurt?" he looked in her eyes, which were filled with fear. His own eyes darkened, and he became enraged.

"You hurt?! I have waited and wanted for you ever since you presented yourself on that God forsaken stage. You don't know how your spell has tortured me, made me wish and want for you. And yet you have the _audacity_ to say that you hurt?!" he thundered. He struck her face, his rings sending shooting pains through her head. She tried to shield her face from any more blows, giving him the opportunity to throw her onto the bed.

She screamed as he pinned her down yet again. "Your retribution for your spells and witchery is soon at hand!" he said, removing his clothing. She tried to kick him, but he had worked his way between her legs.

"It will hurt less if you submit!" She still fought him.

With an animalistic ferocity, he began to thrust into her. Tears fell down her cheeks as she screamed out in pain.

When will this stop? She thought as he ripped through her.

After an eternity, he climaxed, groaning in disgusting pleasure. He shakily left her, eyeing her lustful form one more time. He wanted to ingrain her helplessness, her naked body in his mind. He left the room, locking it behind him. With satisfaction, he fell into his bed, falling asleep instantly.

Esmeralda sat up, exhausted, crying, feeling dirty and used. However, the last two night's exertions had their effect on her. She eventually fell into sleep, dried tears staining her cheeks, new bruises forming on her body. _I wish I were dead_, was her last thought before she passed out.

xxx

Esmeralda's life took on a new terrifying routine. Each night, the minister would come to her room, taking any pleasure he could from her body. She fought him with every fiber of her being, but what resulted was more pain and bruises upon her. The days, she spent staring out the window, eating the food brought to her. She later learned that in her food, special drugs had been crushed in order to prevent pregnancy.

For that "courtesy", she was grateful. She would die before birthing a monster's child.

For the next two weeks (she counted the days by carving tallies in the stone floor) her mind mulled over the fates of Quasimodo and Phoebus. Had Phoebus escaped? Was he looking for her? Had he been caught? And Quasimodo: did he have to face his master's wrath? Would he be punished?

The questions reeled in her mind. As she stared out the window, she would look at all the people passing outside of the stone walls. She would look at each blonde man's face, hoping to glimpse her beloved.

Each day she would search. And each day, she did not find him.

xxx

One afternoon, as Esmeralda stared out the window, Frollo strode in, flinging the door open.

For a moment, the two stared at each other, one pair of eyes filled with lust, the other, with fear. Esmeralda backed away from him as he advanced, his hands reaching out to her. But as he gripped her body, Esmeralda felt her own questions bubbling to her lips.

As he threw her down onto the bed, she blurted out, "What happened to Phoebus?"

Frollo stopped, and looked up at her face. Yes, there was fear. But fear for the former captain. "Why does it matter to you?" he snarled, annoyed and angered that she had interrupted him.

"Please, I don't beg much. But I am begging you now. Tell me what has happened to him? Is he captured, being tortured at this moment? Or have you not found him?" she said, her voice gathering intensity.

Frollo's eyes scrutinized the girl, realizing why she was asking him this. "You love him don't you?" he said, his teeth now gritted.

He was enraged, she could feel the hot anger radiating off of him. "For God's sake, what does it matter to you? It's not like I was lying with him. That lovely 'privilege' belongs to you alone," she spat out bitterly. The words _you alone_ sent a sick feeling of satisfaction through Frollo, but his sudden anger that she had a beloved overpowered any feelings of pleasure. "Do you want to know, what happened to your 'sweet beloved'?" he said quietly and dangerously. His long fingers had weaved through her gloriously dark hair, and he yanked her head to face him. "Do you?!" he thundered, his fingers tightening on her scalp. She let out a cry of pain. However, Esmeralda gritted her teeth and hissed out, "Yes."

"Fine then, gypsy. Let it be known that Phoebus de Chateupers, _former _captain of the guard, has been _stripped_," he now pulled harder on her shining raven-black hair "...of his position, and is a meager soldier. Ah, but that's not all. Your lover will be marrying. Not you. But the illustrious Fleur de Lys."

With every word, Esmeralda's heart sank. Her hands trembled, itching to strike him. "You're lying!" she snarled. "Oh no, I could not make a lie this tantalizingly awful If I tried," he said, a gloating smile on his face.

"Your captain is not coming for you gypsy. In fact, I doubt that he even _would_ if he knew you were here." "Fuck you," she cried out. "Hush!" he said, enraged.

He looked down at her gorgeous caramel colored neck, her skin so supple and smooth. His own carnal hunger came upon him again. With careful precision, he yanked off her nightgown, revealing her beautiful form to him. He kissed her, shoved his tongue between her unmoving lips. She jerked underneath him, but her struggle only tempted him more, served to taunt him.

He removed his trousers and robes, his cock now springing free from its restraints. It throbbed and ached as he stared at her squirming body. As he pushed himself into her yet again, he groaned out his words, "Listen now, gypsy!" He thrust deeper into her, eliciting cries of pain and anger from her. "I will forever be the only man you take in your bed. No one else will possess this body but me. Not that useless captain. Not some flea bitten gypsy. Me!"

As he groaned in pleasure, Esmeralda's sobs choked her chest, as she cried not only out of pain, but out of bitter realization that his words rang true.

Part of her wanted to believe that Frollo was lying. That Phoebus would come for her, that he would comfort her and hold her tight to his chest. That he would whisper that he loved her.

Part of her wanted to believe this. But another part could hear the truth in his words.

If he had really wanted to upset her, he would have simply said that her Sun God was dead. However... Judge Frollo's words had a certain truth in them.

A truth she had wanted to deny. As much as she loved Phoebus, she wondered if he actually loved her, or just loved the idea of running off with a wild gypsy woman. He was a captain. He could afford to marry beneath him.

But now? As a simple soldier, he certainly would need a wealthy Lady's funds.

There was a harsh reality in Frollo's words. And yet, Esmeralda clung to the small hope that Phoebus would find her.

She had to hope. Or else the senseless abuse of her body would send her into maddening grief.

Frollo was annoyed at her devotion to his former captain.

No, annoyed was too mild. He was furious. Livid. As he ravished her body, he was motivated by fiery rage. That... _boy_ did not give a damn about a lowly gypsy. And yet, she still held on to a delirious fantasy that he would be her knight.

How could she exhibit such stupidity, such ignorance of the realities that faced her?

She was his. She would only be his. Forever. As he finished, he looked down at the girl, whose tears now dripped down her face. Her head faced away from him. With his iron-like grip, he forced her head to look at him. A look of utter helplessness flashed across her face. "Tell me gypsy. Did you honestly believe that a man like that could ever love you?" he said sneering.

Esmeralda was in pain. Her body ached and throbbed. But as he questioned her, a different pain welled inside of her. "Yes," she said stubbornly. With a leering grin, Frollo placed on his clothes. "You are more stupid than I previously believed," he said.

He slammed the door shut behind him, locking her in yet again.


	4. Chapter 4

Esmeralda woke with a start.

Frollo's deep voice echoing through her room. She lay, paralyzed in fear, expecting his groping hands to begin taking her.

Instead, as she glanced around the room,she saw no one leering above her. Puzzled, she sat up, wincing as the day's aches and pains throbbed within her muscles and skin.

She heard his voice. But where was he? She stepped silently out of bed, and stood up, steadying herself on the bed frame. She shivered, feeling the dank, cold air on her naked skin. She wrapped herself in the sheets, and listened.

_"Pater Noster, qui es in caelis..."_

Esmeralda kept listening, trying to locate the voice. She surveyed her room, and found a small crack in the stone wall. Barely perceptible to the eye, the crack still was open enough to allow Esmeralda to hear snatches of whatever Frollo was saying. It then occurred to her that Frollo's bedroom must have been next to hers. She listened as Frollo as he spoke words that sounded vaguely familiar to her

_"...Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra."_

Esmeralda realized where she remembered the words from. Mass at Notre Dame. He was praying.

_"Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen."_

For a moment, Esmeralda heard nothing. She then attempted to fall asleep when a sudden cry alarmed her. She sat up, her heart pounding.

"It's not my fault!" Frollo cried out, his tone imperious and yet... frightened?

She heard muttering, unintelligible words. She tried to parse out more, her thundering heartbeat roaring loud in her ears.

"Please...I..."

"What could I possibly have done? She..."

"Lord I am not to blame for this transgression... the witch, she ensnared me!"

Esmeralda could only make out a few words, yet she _knew_ it was about her.

She heard a gasp and shuffling. "Forgive me!"

The voice was full of pain, and was uncharacteristically sorrowful. Esmeralda frowned, his words troubling to her. Over and over, he repeated the two words, his chanting louder and louder.

Finally the cries died down, and silence resumed. Esmeralda sat, paralyzed, more frightened than ever. She lay back down, her eyes fixed at the ceiling. _He's insane,_ she thought, her worst fears confirmed. Mad. Off his rocker. A complete lunatic.

A violent man was enough to frighten her; but a violent and insane man? That struck her to the core with icy cold fear. How long had he obsessed about her? How long had he been talking to himself, night after night, about her?

She had trouble sleeping that night, as Frollo's tortured cries bounced around her skull ceaselessly.

xxx

The next morning, breakfast came as usual. As Esmeralda sat in front of Frollo, she eyed him carefully. His face seemed more gaunt than usual. Pale, purple crescent moons surrounded his eyes. He barely looked at her, instead eating his breakfast quickly and rushing out the door.

The day passed by as it always had. Esmeralda stared out the window, trying to calm her turbulent mind. She tried to forget what had happened last night. But it was impossible.

She found herself angered by his prayers. By the righteous way he sought forgiveness from his God. It offended her greatly that he expected any forgiveness for an act so low and disgusting. Even now, thinking of his deep voice intoning those prayers, her teeth gritted together, and her body trembled in rage. How dare he? How dare he claim that it was all her fault, that his own urges had nothing to do with it?

She mulled over these thoughts nearly the entire day, until the maid came in. "Dinner is served," she said. Esmeralda remained facing the wall. "Miss, the master demands your presence," the woman said. Esmeralda turned. "What costume does he have me wearing tonight?" the gypsy said mockingly. Esmeralda stood up, and the maid saw the young woman's fists trembled at her sides. The maid laid her dress out on the bed, along with a corset. "You have got to be kidding me," Esmeralda said monotonously. "Please turn around, I have to get this on you." she said, her voice tired.

Esmeralda muttered to herself as she placed on the chemise and corset. She held the bedpost as the maid began pulling tightly at the laces, crushing the gypsy's chest and waist. She winced as pain shot through her abdomen. She gritted her teeth, trying not to cry out in frustration.

It then occurred to her that she did not know the maid's name. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name? I want to know who to thank for bringing me food."

"Cosette," she replied, finishing the corset. Esmeralda turned, and placed on the dress, an emerald green creation.

Cosette led her down to the dining hall, letting her in. Esmeralda sat at the table. A wave of revulsion passed over her as she looked up, and saw that the minister already sat at his place, his face gaunt and haggard.

"Leave us," he said dismissively. Cosette bowed her head and left the room, shutting Esmeralda in with her enemy.

Frollo looked up at her, his eyes unable to leave her body. The corset had been a good idea to say the least; her tan, large breasts were pushed just so by the garment. His eyes wandered down over her nubile, supple flesh. The green contrasted beautifully with her skin. She was glorious, a goddess among women.

What a prize she was! Even with her face twisted with hatred, Frollo could not help but feel smug. She was here... under his control. No other man would possess her, would look at her so possessively in the streets. She was his. Her impertinent cries for justice? Completely squashed, meaningless now that she was his.

However, a second thought crashed down on him. One of shame that he had broken his vow of celibacy. And broken it with a gypsy, one of the dark, heathen races.

Esmeralda's glance flickered up to his, and she felt cold and frightened under his gaze. She snapped her glance down, continuing to eat. As she picked at her food, she could feel his dark eyes wandering on her. Esmeralda shivered, not from cold. She instantly wished she could cover up her bosom, hide away from his prying eyes. Another flicker of anger sparked within her; how dare he ask for forgiveness when he so shamelessly committed his own sins? Suddenly, a need to unravel him came upon her. Esmeralda could not stop herself from blurting out:

"I heard you yelling and praying last night," Esmeralda said matter of fact-ly. Frollo's eyes filled with... fear? "How could you possibly know that?" he snarled, lurching up from his chair. His seat fell to the ground with a crash. He stood, quivering, his teeth bared in a cruel scowl.

"It's amazing how much sound is carried in these halls," she stated, attempting to remain casual. But she could not hide the accusing look which shined in her eyes.

For a moment, the two glared at each other, emerald eyes meeting black. Realizing how inappropriate his outburst seemed, Frollo regained his composure, straightening up. "What you may have heard does not concern me." He said, his voice cold.

"Really? Even if I heard your useless pleads for forgiveness? Forgiveness for what, I think. Forgiveness for raping me countless times? For abusing my people? Or simply because you're a sniveling God fearing coward?" She demanded, her voice gathering in fury.

Frollo rushed to her and wrapped his long fingers around her throat. His powerful arms were stiff, muscles rippling beneath his sleeves as he squeezed. "Go ahead. Kill me. Send me to your hell. Send your whore to hell!" Esmeralda rasped as his fingers tightened. Frollo's eyes narrowed, and in that moment, Esmeralda believed she was looking into the face of Satan himself.

He dropped her to the ground, and she gasped for air, coughing. "I expect you in your chamber in five minutes. No more." He turned, eyeing her dark form with lust. Esmeralda shakily stood. Her fury rushed through her, more violent than any force of nature on this earth. Suddenly she was no longer frightened.

"I will be waiting. I will wait for you to rape me again. But I will also wait for the day that you meet your timely end. And I will wait for when you burn in the personal hell your God has so mercifully created for you." With no other words, Esmeralda left the room, closing the door with a hollow boom.

Frollo stood for moment. Her words struck more fear in him than she would ever know. It had been this fear, this cowardice that had made him become a minister.

It was a fear established in him ever since he was a boy. He feared deeply the wrath of God. There was nothing as terrifying to him than the image of hell, than that fiery pit which threatened to consume him. Each day, his father would remind him of it. _"How dare you walk into this house, bathed in your sin!"_ his father would roar, grabbing him by the ear. Even now, he could remember the punishments, the cracking sound of the whip piercing his back flesh.

It wasn't the whip that had hurt, but the acid words which always fell from his father's mouth. Admonishing him, punishing him for the sinful things and thoughts Frollo had performed throughout the day. "_You are weak, boy!"_ the elder Frollo had bellowed. Even now, years later, Frollo winced, old scars upon his back and soul throbbing dully within him.

As a young man, he had decided to become a judge. He decided to become celibate, devout. He wanted to atone for whatever sin his father had so violently pointed out to him. And so, he became the soldier for God, implementing His will. Clearing the earth of vermin, of the filth that reeked to high heaven. He had done admirably well, ridding Paris of much of the gypsy carrion that polluted the city.

Until she had appeared.

He remembered the Feast of Fools, how she had appeared as quickly as a flash of lightening. How he had felt a cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck. How his mouth dried up, his robes suddenly seemed unbearably hot.

And now, he had succumbed to this... heathen, this witch! _I did not succumb, she is being punished for her heathen ways_, he thought in defense.

Except that his protestations were weak, sickly, compared to the enormous hideous truth that faced him. He had sinned. Greatly. And even now, he wanted to sin and sin again, take her body, touch her breasts and hips, shove his tongue between those red, luscious lips. Oh God he relished her. His body ached to touch her to feel her soft, malleable flesh submitting to his.

Frollo had once concluded God had sent her to him to be punished. To exact his revenge on her body. But now... God's will was not a factor. The only force that motivated him onward now was his own mindless vengeful lust.

xxx

She was waiting. When Frollo opened the door to her chamber, Esmeralda was sitting, her back to him. Frollo strode into the room and she turned. She said nothing, since she knew nothing would ever deter the monster whom she was living with.

To Frollo's surprised, when he grabbed her arm, she simply complied, lying down on the bed. Even as he took off her gown, she remained motionless, a puppet for his pleasure.

Her naked form yet again stirred within him a great and monstrous hunger. His member became engorged, eyeing her brown breasts, her sex. He parted her legs, looking down at the pink, soft flesh of her womanhood. It was enough to make him forget his guilt, enough to forget the will of God Himself. Frollo entered her, not even emitting so much as a gasp from the gypsy. "Good girl," he groaned as he thrust into her. He looked down at her form, his hands pinching at her nipples... but she stared straight at him. Her emerald eyes burned with a fire that he had never seen before. Even as silent tears leaked from her eyes and stained her cheeks, she did not lose the intensity of her stare. She had looked at him with anger, fear... but this was loathing in purest form. It was absolute hatred. Unyielding, unrelenting hatred.

Frollo stopped, his pleasure now evaporated into the cold, dank air. For a moment he stared into those eyes that threatened to consume him in their fires of hate. His body violently protested, urging him to lurch forward, deeper into her warm center. He then continued to rock back and forth, his own hunger overpowering his mind. But he was unable to look away from her eyes. Esmeralda still unflinchingly fastened her eyes at his face, and in that moment, Frollo swore she could see behind his eyes, into his corrupted soul.

No human upon this Earth had ever shook him so deeply to his core. Each secret crevice of his mind became exposed to her, uncovered by the unrelenting force that burnt in her eyes. Frollo shook his head and pulled out, his member protesting in the cold air. He turned from her and sat at the edge of the bed, his face flushed, his mind reeling. Never... never had he seen such loathing and bitterness in a person's eyes.

He gathered his clothes, placing them on, his back turned to her. Esmeralda now sat up, still in pain, but now confused. Without a word, the minister left the room, locking the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Esmeralda woke up startled as the maid, Cosette, barged into her room. "What is it now?" she muttered sleepily, still relieved that it was not the judge himself. "Minister Frollo has allowed you to go out into the courtyard today. Only under my watch." She announced. Esmeralda sat up in bed, her muscles protesting. She frowned. "For what reason?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. Cosette ignored her, instead opening the curtains. Esmeralda covered her eyes as blinding sunlight streamed through.

"Can somebody please answer a direct question for once?" she muttered. Cosette instead gave her a beige dress. Esmeralda began to dress, wincing as the scratchy ornate material rubbed against skin that was raw from _other_ exertions. "Damn dresses. I don't know how you ladies stand these," she muttered. The dress pinched at her waist and scratched uncomfortably against her skin. She yearned for her old clothes, now probably long disposed of.

Cosette held out a cloak. Esmeralda said, frowned. "Minister Frollo wishes you to wear this cloak and the hood." Esmeralda took the heavy cloth. "Why the hood? I don't believe its snowing?" Esmeralda said wryly. And then, she realized.

Frollo did not want anyone to know she was in his house. He gave her a cloak so no one would see her. Of course he could ravish her body and sin with her in the dark. But to have his subordinates gossiping about it? That, that was something to be ashamed of. The irony and hypocrisy of it all caused her to laugh bitterly under her breath.

Esmeralda pushed down the anger that built up within her. She wedged her feet in the uncomfortable shoes and followed Cosette. She then said to the maid, "You know, you can speak like a normal person to me, I won't tell." Cosette did not respond. Esmeralda rolled her eyes. "Okay then, I'll just talk to myself then, seeing as nobody here will give me some blissful conversation."

Cosette led Esmeralda into the dining hall, where she expected to see Frollo. "Where is the _illustrious_ minister?" she said tauntingly. "Minister Frollo-"For fuck's sakes, don't keep calling him that at the beginning of every single sentence it is truly annoying," she said exasperated. Cosette frowned, her eyes judging the gypsy. "_He _will not be joining you." Cosette then left her alone. She sat, suspicious by the minister's absence. _Probably had to go to his torture room for an early morning confession_, she thought darkly as she slurped the porridge down. For a while, she enjoyed the silence, the emptiness of the room, relishing the fact that she didn't have to eat in front of that man.

Once she had finished, Cosette came in again, with another maid, Elizabeth, and cleared the table. "The min-I mean, he would like you to go outside. Only if you wish though," Cosette said. Esmeralda raised an eyebrow. "Sure, why not, I'll bite," she said getting up. She adjusted her bandages on her wrists, and then followed the maid. "Hood up," the maid ordered. Esmeralda grudgingly did so, and Cosette pushed open the heavy doors, sending sunlight streaming in to the darkened front hall. Esmeralda blinked, temporarily blinded. Then, her eyes adjusted, and she stepped outside.

The judge had no desire for gardening, nor any time for it. Therefore, his grounds were bleak, barren. The trees were dry and twisted. The grass resembled hay. However, Esmeralda felt a sudden rush of joy that she now walked outside, the sunlight beaming down on her face. She only wished that she could yank off this damn cloak.

Cosette kept following Esmeralda, her eyes anxiously pinned on the gypsy. Esmeralda noticed her worried stare. "Why do you work for him?" she asked. Cosette was silence. "Come now, what is the motivation? Why work for an abusive old tyrant such as that monster?" Esmeralda said, now kicking off her shoes. It felt good to feel the earth beneath her feet again and not cold stone.

Suddenly, Cosette blurted out, "Minister Frollo has been very kind to my family."

Esmeralda's eyebrows shot up. "Now I _know_ you've been brainwashed," she said. Cosette shook her head and then walked closer to the girl. "He may be cruel to you. I hate what he's done to you... but I owe a debt to that man. Most of us Parisians do." "Oh, I'm guessing you're leaving gypsies out of that equation, since we don't owe that man anything," Esmeralda hissed.

Cosette bit her lip. "Miss..." "It's just Esmeralda," the gypsy said. "Esmeralda. When I was young, my family was brutally in debt. A man and his gang had charged my family, saying that they pay them money for 'protection'. They did the same for everyone in our district. My family could not pay and they suffered the consequences." Cosette's tone turned bitter.

"After their deaths, I had no one. I wandered the streets with my older sister... until Minister Frollo found us."

"He chased down the men, tracked down those murderers. He offered my sister and me a place in his home, as servants. My parent's murderers found justice. Frollo beheaded them the next week."

Esmeralda knew there was something Cosette didn't tell her. "These men... they were-"Gypsies. The whole lot of em." She replied. Esmeralda was quiet. "I know he's done terrible things. I know that you believe him to have brutalized your people. But you have to understand that your people are not entirely blameless. There was a time when my people were oppressed and tricked by yours. Minister Frollo simply reversed that trend."

Esmeralda folded her arms, deep in thought. She had known of the exploits of her people. But she had simply seen it as survival. Taking from the rich and giving to the poor. It had never occurred to her of the pain it must have caused someone else.

And it had never occurred to her that Frollo's tirade against the gypsies had an actual purpose. That it was not his mindless love for violence that fueled him but some twisted righteousness.

Could it be she was partially wrong? Esmeralda instantly denied it in her mind. _He's a monster._ Yes he was. But...Cosette's story did raise some doubts in her mind about the innocence of her people.

She thought about it long after the maid had fallen silent.

xxx

The whole afternoon passed as Esmeralda wandered outside, exploring within the walls of the courtyard. She hadn't talked again to Cosette, feeling as if she had touched on a raw nerve within the maid. Instead, she occupied herself by lying back against the wall, looking up at the sky. She sighed, hearing the sounds of the town outside the walls. She could hear the baker, bellowing out, "Rolls! Rolls for sale!" She could hear the wives haggling over items in the market, their shrill voices making her laugh.

Esmeralda carefully snuck over to the gate, gripping the bars. "Esmeralda, get back from there!" Cosette exclaimed. "In a moment," she said, taking in the scene. The people crowded the streets outside, lost in a flurry of activity. How often she had walked past these people, thinking nothing of their lives! Now, they appeared to her as ghosts of the past, holding out a tempting sight to her. Freedom.

Suddenly, she heard the high whinny of a horse. She looked to the right, and saw Judge Frollo atop his steed. She felt cold, as if ice water had been poured into her veins.

Frollo surveyed the crowd, annoyed at the amount of hyperactivity.

"'Scuse me sir, could you spare a guilder?"

Esmeralda watched as a young gypsy boy hobbled out to the judge. "Get away, boy!" the judge snarled.

"Lovely horse sir! Bet she's fast as the wind!" The boy said, grinning a charming smile.

Esmeralda had seen this before. One boy would distract the mark... and the other would rob him blind. She had to stifle a laugh as another equally dirty boy came to the other side of the horse and subtly rooted through the saddlebags.

"Out of my way!" The judge said. Suddenly, he saw the other boy. Before he could say another word, the boy ran, disappearing with his loot into the crowd.

Infuriated, Frollo grabbed the first boy roughly. "Please! No sir! My mum, she'd beat me if I didn't get the money!" the boy begged. Frollo saw through the lie. "Impudent little wretch!" he said, livid. His arm rose to strike.

Esmeralda didn't even think. She picked up one of the broad flat stones at her feet, testing its weight in her palm. She pressed up to the gate, and stuck an arm through. With a grunt, she threw the rock, where it hit his horse square in the chest.

The horse reared up, catching Frollo by surprise. He let go of the boy, who scrambled away. Frollo fell hard on the street, sprawling out on the ground. The wind was knocked out of him, and he gasped for air.

Now completely engulfed in rage, he picked himself up, trying to calm the beast. "Down!" he ordered. He could hear the townspeople laughing. However, with one stormy glare, the people were silenced.

He looked into the direction the stone was thrown, and saw the gypsy, doubled over in laughter at his gate. He put together the pieces, and a look of pure wrath crossed his features. Esmeralda witnessed the change on his face, and ran away, knowing very well that punishment was coming.

Frollo unlocked his gates, pulling his horse along. Cosette came to meet him. "Why did you let her near the gate?!" he chastised her. "I tried to talk to her but she didn't listen!" Cosette gasped, now trembling with fear. Frollo stared at her for a moment, his blood boiling hot in his veins. "Next time, drag her away from that gate, or else the consequences will be most severe! Take Snowball to the stables!" Cosette nodded and took the reins.

Frollo turned to his house, where the gypsy had slipped inside. He strode forward quickly, his hands twitching with anger.

"Esmeralda!" Frollo slammed the door behind him and marched in looking for the insolent bitch. "Esmeralda!" He walked through the halls.

He found her in the main chamber, brandishing a candelabra. Esmeralda held it towards him. "Stay back!" she said quietly but dangerously. Frollo, aghast, simply stood there. "What was the meaning of that?" he thundered. Esmeralda was terrified, petrified from his anger. However, remembering the way he had raised his hand against the child, she steeled herself on. "Frollo, you may abuse me all you like. But if I see you threatening my people... then I promise you that I will make your life most miserable. You can laugh all you like, but I will."

"And who are your people?" he said, her indignant tone grating him."Gypsies. Beggars. Lepers. Those that you cast out of your God's presence." She snarled. Frollo stepped closer, and she rose the metal tool higher. "You ignorant little wench. That boy stole from me! I suppose you _agree_ with him?" he said, his oily tone sending shivers down her spine. "Yes," she replied, challenging him. "That doesn't seem in any way dishonorable to you?" he said, fuming.

"Not if it's the only way to survive. Tell me Frollo. Have you ever been starving? Have you ever had to fall asleep, night after night, your stomach in agony, your mind weak?" she said, the words bursting forth from her lips. Frollo didn't respond, remaining indifferent.

"No? I thought not. Once you are starving, moral qualms have no meaning. Besides, it's your very own regulations that have cast us out on the streets. You've given us no choice," she concluded in a hiss.

"Do not lecture me on morality. I can assure you that you will lose this argument!" he said sharply.

Esmeralda stood her ground, too angry to feel frightened. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the candelabra, her arms itching to swing it at him, bash his head in. _If you do, you won't be the only one who is punished_, she reminded herself.

"You will never publicly disobey me like that ever again. Ever." He said, his jaw clenching.

"No promises." She said bitterly. He could see the same hatred in her eyes, the same that had burned at him as he had tried to quell his lust.

For a moment, the two stood. _I should have her flogged_, Frollo thought. Beaten, punished. _Something_. That was the common punishment for such an act of disobedience. One that displayed such disrespect and ignorance towards him of all people.

But... he found himself unable to raise a hand towards her. Each moment he looked at her, he was reminded of the monstrous qualities in himself. Her brilliant eyes bore holes through his skull, and he felt exposed by her. HE grew uncomfortable and scrutinized beneath her gaze, a novel and unpleasant experience for him.

"Put it down," he said forcefully. Esmeralda narrowed her eyes, challenging him.

"Put it down!" he said savagely, towering above her. Esmeralda slowly placed the candelabra down, eyeing him the entire time. She waited for him to launch himself at her, to beat her, to rain down blows on her.

Instead he stood, fists clenched, and teeth gritted. "Do you have nothing to say? I'm shocked," she said, unable to obscure the mocking edge of her voice.

"For that show of insolence that you have so shamelessly displayed, I am barring you from ever leaving this house! Get out, and go to your chambers!" he said. Esmeralda shot him a derisive glance, then left the room. She turned down the dark corridors, instantly feeling the walls close in around her. Cosette followed behind her, her own face saddened.


	6. Chapter 6

Esmeralda was nervous.

No, nervous was too mild... she was frantic. Frollo had not come to her room in weeks. The respite was pleasant. But she was terrified that it would soon be over. She couldn't sleep each night, her own fear of the judge's unpredictability keeping her awake.

Becoming trapped in her room did not help. Frollo now restricted her to her room, and at mealtime, to the dining hall. He claimed it to be punishment. And she agreed, it was a punishment. An awful punishment that was slowly driving her crazy. Her room felt as though it grew smaller each day, the walls squeezing her in.

She would try to entertain herself, by singing and dancing, remembering the good memories. However she was restless, frazzled, sleep deprived.

As she sat in her room one day, she thought back, remembering her home. Remembering the Court of Miracles.

_"Clopin what are you doing?" she had said, her ten-year-old-self pouting at the king of the gypsies. "Hush little one. Soon enough, you shall see." Clopin was bent over a door, jamming something into the keyhole. He shifted the tool around, until an audible click was heard. _

_Esmeralda had stared in amazement as Clopin swung open the locked door. "How did you do that?!" Clopin had crouched next to her, and held within his hand a few bits of wire. "This my dear, is your way out of any situation. This is freedom in a tool. A lockpick."_

Sitting in the locked room, she looked to the window, which also locked. Frollo had taken no chances in constructing his prison. He did not want any vagabonds to sneak in... and now, it kept her inside.

She scolded herself now for not remembering Clopin's lessons. Acrobatics, tumbling, she had enjoyed. Lock picking to her had been tedious... Esmeralda strained to remember how to do it.

The gypsy rose from her bed, and began to look around the floor. She got on her hands and knees, feeling around with her hands for something, anything resembling wire. Suddenly, the handles of the cabinet caught her eye.

They were wrapped in a gold-colored material. Esmeralda crept over to the cabinet, and found the end of the wire. She busied herself with trying to untie the knot.

Eventually, she worked the wiry strand free. She sat on the bed, and struggled to remember what the lock pick had looked like. As she worked, she smiled to herself. She would be free soon enough.

xxx

_"Hush now, my baby. _

_Be still, love don't cry. _

_Hush as you're rocked by the stream. _

_Sleep and remember, my last lullaby. _

_So I'll be with you when you dream."_

She was singing. Frollo had heard her from the corridor. Her husky, yet beautiful voice rang through his lonely halls. She was singing much more after he had locked her in the room. Frollo had to admit, he enjoyed her singing. A force like no other attracted him to the door. He would stand outside, listening the her movements.

For two weeks, he had left her alone. He could remember so vividly her acidic stare. Each night, as he fell asleep, lustful dreams would pollute his mind, the image of her dancing forever ingrained in his skull. He wanted her. His carnal hunger demanded he take her. But, as he stood outside her room, drawn to the door by his own animalistic needs, he could find himself unable to move.

Her words rang through his head. _I will wait for when you burn in the personal hell your God has so mercifully created for you." _Such anger, such venom in those words. Oh God, it was frightening! She was frightening! Her own eyes, as he had thrust himself into her, had turned hellish, resembling Satan's pit itself.

Her impudence and impertinence grated his nerves, leaving him raw, angry. Why could the gypsy not learn her place? The girl had displayed such insolence, such contempt. Such contempt he could have dealt with quickly. A sentencing in the hall of justice, and she would be gone.

But he couldn't do it.

Frollo could not let go of the gypsy. Her flesh was his... at least it was supposed to be. The lure of her body was too powerful, too intoxicating to let out of his grasp.

Frollo could no longer stand outside the room in silence. He unlocked her door and let himself in, interrupting her. She turned and instantly glared at him. "What is that song you are singing?" he asked his words spilling from his mouth. She frowned. "Tell me." She turned away from him.

What was he doing here? Esmeralda couldn't stand to be around him, let alone talk to him. "It's private." She responded, turning her gaze to out the window. Anger was boiling in Frollo, balking at the irritating stubbornness in her voice, but he kept it in check. "If you please Esmeralda, I would like to have a simple question answered."

Esmeralda turned around. _Why not, I'm imprisoned anyway?_ She thought. "It's a song about Moses. My mother used to sing it to me when I was a girl." "Moses? Gypsies do not believe in the Lord.," he automatically retorted.

"We don't believe and follow your precious bible. But Moses holds a special place in our hearts. If you thought about it more," she shot a glare at him. "...you would understand why. The story of a people, enslaved, waiting for their savior. Waiting to be freed from their oppression." she finished.

"I suppose the gypsies are the Hebrews, and I play the part of Pharaoh?" he said dryly.

"You would presume correctly, Ramses," she said in a biting tone.

"The Hebrews never duped the Egyptians. They took their punishments, they suffered. You gypsies are not blameless. Not in the slightest. ," he said, crossing his arms.

Esmeralda raised an eyebrow, her own irritation and anger simmering within her. "We wouldn't have to 'dupe' if you hadn't oppressed us," she replied. "Child, long before your time, the gypsies had run amuck. They robbed many, including those who had nothing to give. How is it that you can be so blind to their actions?"

The two were dancing around each other orally, each verbal joust hurling them closer to anger. However, Esmeralda, to her surprise, began to enjoy this challenge. It certainly was better than sitting in here bored. "I have watched you imprison many gypsies, for as little as crossing a white man's path. I know that my people are thieves. That they are not the most pious. But then, how can one be honest if they keep being wrongly accused of crimes due to the color of their skin?"

"The Hebrews did," he countered, a smug smile on his face.

"The world is a little more complicated than the bible. There, God sent the plagues to wipe out the evil. Now, the plagues affect everyone, good or evil."

"That is the challenge God presents to the corrupted souls of man. Can they endure when all is taken from them? Can their faith remain? In the Book of Job, Job did precisely that, modeling for sinners the true path. It is only then that we may receive our just reward."  
Esmeralda frowned. "If we are judged by our deeds... would a virtuous gypsy be admitted to your 'Paradise'?"

"There is no such thing as a virtuous gypsy."

"Come on, even as a child, I was not innocent?" she said.

"Perhaps. But gypsies, as I have seen, are easily corrupted," he said, a leering grin on his face.

Esmeralda was beginning to lose her temper. "I was plenty virtuous before you raped me," she blurted out viciously.

Frollo blinked, and tried to remain stone-like. "Oh, but you weren't, witch," he said, dangerously. "You know I am no witch. You know that those were parlor tricks, simple sleights of hand at the Festival of Fools," she said sharply.

"Ah, but you most certainly are! The way you..." he had no words. Esmeralda glared at him.

Frollo was quickly losing his self- control. His thoughts swirled around him. _The way you entered my mind, the way you have cast your cruel spells that keep me awake each night. The way you have doomed me to an eternity of fire!_ He thought, unable to voice any of his thoughts. All the while, he was aware of her heated stare.

Trying to remain as calm as possible, Frollo folded his arms over his chest, then stated, "The Lord shall punish you for the indecency you presented at the Festival of Fools in this world and the next."

"So, raping me multiple times is my punishment? Doesn't your bible list lust as one of your sins?" Esmeralda said.

"Hold your tongue, witch. You have brought all of this on yourself. An innocent soul would not present herself as you have, would not show such insubordination towards her superior."

"You are not my superior," she said grimly.

Frollo's hand shot up and grabbed her jaw, his long fingers stroking her dark skin. "Ah, but that is where you are wrong. Take care not to displease me, gypsy. The price will be high... for yourself, and those whom you call 'family'," he said, relishing the power he had over her.

Yet again, Esmeralda glared at him, jaw clenched in anger. She hated the feel of his hands on her skin. She wrenched her head away. "You may be a 'man of God'... or at least tout yourself to be. But you are not my master. Not in my heart. Not in my soul," she said huskily.

"You may believe whatever deluded drivel you wish. But, you are my prisoner. And I expect you to respect your warden and keeper," he said sinisterly.

He left the room, taking care to lock her in again. Esmeralda then retrieved from her pocket the bundle of wires, now fashioned into a lock-pick. "Sounds like a challenge to me," she murmured. She began to hum her song again as she continued her work, jamming the wires into the window lock.

The judge lurked outside, listening to her simple tune that the gypsy had resumed. A deep emptiness settled upon his soul, and he had not the slightest reason why. As he listened to the sweetness of her singing, the lyrics of the song became imprinted in his mind.

And for a brief moment, he could understand why the gypsies would idolize Moses.

_Do you know somewhere, he can be free?_

_River, deliver him there._

xxx

Hey! Thanks for reading! Leave reviews! Also, for anyone who's asking, this song comes from The Prince of Egypt. Thanks! Adios!


	7. Chapter 7

Esmeralda worked on the lock meticulously each day, a new vigor fueling her actions. Frollo's words were a new challenge. His subordinate? Ha! Subordinate to a man who didn't know how to keep his cock in his pants. Typical.

She was desperate to leave. Each moment in this prison was another moment driving her mad. She had stopped counting the days because the amount of tally marks depressed her so. She couldn't sleep at night, and her stomach would churn unpleasantly at the sight of food-his food. Everything around her seemed to resemble a prison, closing in around her.

One month and two weeks to the day she had been captured... she cracked the code. Esmeralda's heart leapt as with a click, the lock opened. She carefully opened the window, and then shut it again.  
She needed a plan. Now. I'll need to find some other clothes, she thought. The stiff dress and its corset were too cumbersome, too risky to climb up the roof in.

Frollo would not be returning for hours. The maid had already gone in to change the sheets.

Esmeralda crept over to the door, and jammed the lock-pick into the lock. She smirked as she heard a small click, and the door swung open. The gypsy looked left, then right, checking for servants. There were none. With sweat forming on her neck, she slipped out of her room, closing the door behind her. She padded slowly in bare feet to the door next to hers. She checked the doorknob, and to her elation, the room was not locked. She quickly shut herself inside, her heart pounding.

Esmeralda was anxious. She was now inside the room of her attacker. Each item in the room had been touched by him. Shaking off her anxiety, Esmeralda approached the drawers of the bureau that stood next to the bed. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she opened each drawer, searching its contents. The clothes were folded meticulously. The very sight of his trousers, his shirts sent a shudder of repulsion through her body. These were the same clothes he had shed each time he raped her. In an instant, her vision went red, and her blood boiled within her veins.

Esmeralda steadied herself, and dug down to the bottom, finding a dark pair of breeches. She pulled them carefully out, taking care to not disturb anything within the drawers. She found an old shirt of his in the back of the drawers, then an old cloak of his. He wouldn't miss these things.

And even if he did, she would be long gone. Esmeralda felt a thrill of elation at that thought.

Esmeralda shut the drawers, then crept silently back to her room. She stowed away the clothes between the mattress and the bed frame, and locked the door behind her.

xxx

Esmeralda waited until she no longer heard Frollo's nightly prayers. Quietly, she undid her covers, and slipped the clothing out of the mattress.

She took off her nightgown and pulled on the shirt-his shirt. She pulled on his breeches, pulling the laces tighter and tighter for them to fit her much smaller waist. As she dressed, a wave of disgust rippled over her. These were the clothes of the monster who lay sleeping in the other room. These may have been the very clothes stained with the blood of her people at one point. Esmeralda steeled herself, then rolled up the sleeves and pant legs.

She looked in the mirror. She was swimming in the clothes, but it was still better than wearing a dress. Esmeralda put on the cloak, throwing the hood up. She pulled back her hair with a scrap of cloth left over from her long discarded clothes.

Esmeralda turned to the window, and opened it slowly. She climbed up on the windowsill, her heart pounding in her chest. At any moment, Frollo could come in here. See what she was doing. Stop her.

But he did not come. Esmeralda looked out into the night, eyeing the slate rooftop lit subtly by the moon above. Esmeralda stepped onto the ledge. She turned around, and saw the spire above her.

The gypsy gripped the spire with two hands and lifted her body up onto the triangular roof which bordered the window. With a grunt, she swung one leg, then two up onto the roof. Now lying on her belly, she lifted herself up, balancing on the apex of the roof. She gripped the spire tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Esmeralda surveyed her surroundings. She looked for a way down from the roof.

Suddenly, she found her way out: across the house, a low hanging roof hung over the courtyard wall, providing her with an escape.

Esmeralda balanced carefully on the roof, placing one foot in front of the other, as if she were on a tightrope. She could not help but notice the ground three floors away. If she fell, she would break a leg... or neck.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she reached the roof. Esmeralda crouched down and half slid down the roof-tiles, her heart leaping up into her throat. With her heart thundering in her chest, Esmeralda stood at the end of the roof, and then jumped to the wall. She landed on top of the roof.

A grin formed on Esmeralda's face. As long as she was careful, she would be free. Esmeralda looked ahead of her and saw a smaller thatched roof. Taking a running start, Esmeralda jumped, and crashed onto the roof. Scrambling to her feet, she began to run again, a new vigor filling her limbs. She was free! Frollo could not hurt her again!

Esmeralda leapt from roof to roof, no longer caring at all about falling. She hurled her body through the warm summer air, wind whipping her hair.

However, the gypsy was torn from her reverie by a shrill scream. "Stop it! Jus' stop it will you?" said a female voice. "Please, I beg you we are just heading home!" said a male voice, older. "Come on old man! Step aside!" said a brutish voice. Esmeralda stopped in her tracks, and walked carefully towards the voices.

She looked down at the street and saw five figures. Three young man cornered a girl and an old man in an alley. Esmeralda lay on her belly, peeking her head over the roof, and watched. "You know, you shouldn't be out here this late at night. It isn' good," said one of the men, his voice slurred. "I think we gotta teach these folk a lesson boys," he said, and all three of them cackled.

Esmeralda knew she couldn't walk away. The gypsy crouched on the roof, grabbed the edge of it, and swung down. She dropped onto her feet, bending her knees to absorb the fall.

She then crept behind the men. One of them had a knife. Staring at the man's wide stance, Esmeralda ran over and kicked her leg in between his legs.

With a grunt, the man fell to his knees. Esmeralda grabbed the knife, and brandished it towards the other two. One reached for her. She sliced at his arms, eliciting a swear of pain. "Get back!" she growled. The third man stared at her for a moment, and then fled, stumbling through the alleys. "You two! Get out of here, got it?" she said pointing the knife at the fallen man's gullet. He scrambled to his feet, and the two of them gave up, running in the same direction as the third man.

Esmeralda weighed the knife in her palm. _Probably will need this_, she thought, keeping it. She turned to the two victims who cowered in fear by a wall. "Are you two all right?" she said quietly, reaching a hand out to the girl who had fallen down. The brown haired girl took her hand and was pulled to her feet. "Th-th-thank you!" she stammered out, her lips quivering.

The older man eyed Esmeralda warily. She wondered for a brief second if he would chase her off, say that the gypsy vermin should scram. To her surprise, the man nodded at her and said, "Thank you. If you don't mind, I don't know where you're heading but could you possibly escort my daughter and I to our house? It's a few houses away, but I don't want her getting hurt."

Taken aback by the man's kind tone, Esmeralda nodded, saying, "Sure."

The three figures made their way home, the old man's gait slow. His daughter held his arm, carefully guiding him through the streets. "I swear, if those bastards attacked me as a young man, I would make sure they'd walk out crying for their mothers," he said.

"They probably wouldn't attack you then. Drunks have an uncanny way of sensing who is weak, and who is the best target," Esmeralda replied. The old man nodded, his face saddened. After a while, they approached a smaller house.

His daughter went ahead, quickly unlocking the door of the house. Esmeralda went beside the man, taking his arm. "I can't thank you enough for what you did," he murmured, lowering his voice so his daughter wouldn't hear. "You hear stories about what happens when girls wander alone at night. I thought I could protect her. I suppose not," he looked up at Esmeralda, his dark brown eyes looking tired. "You did all you could," Esmeralda stated.

The old man flashed a weak smile. "I suppose I tried. To think of what those bastards would do to her." He shook his head, a look of anger crossing his face.

"God has been merciful though. He sent you. A kind, selfless soul." He said.

Esmeralda suddenly felt uncomfortable. "Thank you," she muttered. The man reached into his pocket for money. "No, I don't want your money sir," Esmeralda stopped him, raising a hand. The old man's eyes brightened. "You truly are sent from God," he said.

Esmeralda was filled with guilt. Oh, he didn't know. He didn't know that she had run away, probably condemning her people to be hunted down by her captor. The sudden realization crashed down on her. "Be safe tonight," she said shortly, and then , without another word, walked briskly off into the night.

Esmeralda kept walking, trying to steer herself in the direction of the Court of Miracles. However, she could barely concentrate, her mind occupied with the words of the old man. "A kind, selfless soul," she repeated to herself. Ha! If he truly knew what she was doing out here, he would have not been as generous with his praise.

She stopped in her tracks. If she went through with this, she would be safe. But she would also give Frollo the perfect opportunity to attack her people.

If she went back... her family would be safe. But she would be at Frollo's mercy once more.

She clenched her jaw.

She had to go back.

Every cell in her body protested, revolted. Esmeralda felt herself tremble just thinking of slipping back into that room, letting herself be his victim again.

It was then with a heavy, desolate heart that Esmeralda turned around.

She gritted her teeth as she walked quickly back, barely noticing her surroundings. Each step was on the path to her hell.

She climbed up the roof, and leapt in the direction. Already, she could see the gothic structure of Frollo's domain ahead. The image of its tall, pointy spires made her blood run cold. She was trembling as she stepped closer to the house, her limbs quivering in fear.

Esmeralda finally reached the wall, and the low hanging roof. She forced herself onto the roof, and walked carefully back towards her room.

Her window was still open. She swung inside, falling onto the floor. Her knees buckled under her. She fell to the ground, her entire form shaking violently. She gasped, holding back her sobs of frustration and hopelessness.

xxx

Thanks for reading! Leave reviews! Love ya! Bye!


	8. Chapter 8

The next night Esmeralda lay awake, listening to Frollo's movements on the other side of the wall. Her heart pounded within her, and she quivered, praying he would not come in again.

His prayers died down, and for what seemed like an eternity, a heavy silence pressed on Esmeralda's ears. Sleep, she ordered herself, turning onto her side. She squeezed her eyes shut, but her thoughts grew more numerous, floating in and out of her mind ceaselessly.

Finally, she yanked off the covers, and rose from her bed, stretching her limbs out. Her eyes fell on the window, still unlocked from yesterday's escape.

A yearning, deep and to her core, struck her. Esmeralda suddenly wanted to be liberated, out of this prison. To feel cool air upon her face.

Hoping to clear her mind, the gypsy carefully opened the window, and stuck her head out. The cold, January air caressed her face, its cold touch refreshing and tempting. She breathed in, looking up at the stars and moon that yet again shone above her. She stared out over the rooftops of Paris, wishing, yearning to be out there. Notre Dame stood, omnipotent and imposing, on the horizon.

A sudden impulse came upon her. To pretend, for a moment, she was free, and that she could be out there on her own terms. And then, Esmeralda had a reckless thought. _If I were back before he woke, he would never know I was gone_, she thought, the dangerous, impetuous thought now becoming all she could think about.

Before reason could take over, Esmeralda changed out of her nightgown, and yet again donned Frollo's garments. A thrill of fear and enjoyment filled her as she crept out yet again, leaving the relative 'safety' of her room.

The trek up the roof was easier tonight, and soon, she was on the roof outside the courtyard, temporarily free from the constrictive grasp of the judge. She grinned, relishing how dangerous and rebellious she was. The thrill of an enjoyable, addicting fear filled her senses, and she ran jumping from rooftop to rooftop, dexterously gliding over each home. The cool air pressed on her face, and her face became numb from the cold. She never felt so alive, than out here tonight. She had never relished the freedom of simply going wherever she wanted, doing whatever she wanted.

She wandered on the rooftops, her eyes gleaming, staring longingly at the moon above her.

xxx

Esmeralda wandered the streets for a while. She took in the sights of Paris at night. Occasionally she would pass by a beggar, wandering aimlessly on the streets. She passed a lantern-lighter finishing his duty. She saw a drunk man wandering home from his revels.

The multitude of life that flashed before her eyes overwhelmed her. God, she wished she could be any one of these people out here, wandering around on their own accord. Her eyes feasted on these individuals, memorizing their faces. She was hungry for the world, hungry for its people in it.

However, as she passed by a nearby alley, an unsavory sight broke her reverie.

A soldier stood over a woman dressed in rags, his armor gleaming dully in the low light. The woman struggled, and Esmeralda could hear muffled cries.

Esmeralda stopped, and pulled out the dagger she had taken from the men last night. Her scrutinizing eyes pored over the situation, deciding her next move. Esmeralda crept forward, her feet silently padding over the stones.

As she did, she realized with a sudden jolt that if the soldier indeed saw her face... he would certainly report her. She stopped. She couldn't simply walk away.

Esmeralda's eyes fell on an old piece of cloth that covered a barrel.

The muffled cries of the woman rang out into the alley, and the soldier was muttering to himself. Esmeralda cut a scrap from the burlap, and wrapped around her face, covering her mouth and forehead. She ran forward and through a chink in the armor, slid the knife into his body.

The soldier howled in pain and turned, his own knife brandished. Esmeralda leaped away, her knife bloodied, a boiling vigor filling her body. Her eyes narrowed, and her stance widened, ready to fight. "Stay away from her," she hissed icily. Esmeralda was terrified, her eyes taking in the knife which the soldier held in his hands. She had to act now; the man could quickly overpower her, with his brute strength.

So, she decided to be... unexpected. The gypsy, using her acrobatic dexterity, ran at him and jumped, somersaulting in the air. Unprepared, the soldier had no defenses as she crashed against his chest, sending him down onto the stones of the streets. The armor made an unholy racket, the metallic crash ringing out into the night. She now sat on his chest, her knife poking at his Adam's apple. "Get out of here," she said, lowering her voice. The soldier was breathless, completely stunned. "Think to yourself- is a quick fuck worth getting your throat cut?" she said, her whole body shaking and aflame. Her anger was hot within her veins; her skin instantly felt on fire, burning with the heat of rage. Still holding the knife to his throat, Esmeralda rose, ordering him to rise with her.

The soldier, still stunned, was indignant. However, he could only follow the masked figure's orders. The tension between the two was taut, palpable in the once cool night air. Esmeralda stepped forward, pressing the knife more insistently at his throat. "Leave... and never come back!" she said dangerously. She took his knife from his hand, and kicked him in the chest. He stumbled away, and slowly backed away, until he had disappeared into the night.

Esmeralda stood waiting for the hot waves of anger to dissipate from her body. She finally turned to the beggar, a woman in her late twenties. The woman looked at her... but not with grateful eyes, but with weary, defeated ones. "You know he's just gonna come back," she said, her voice hoarse. Esmeralda's eyebrows rose. The beggar stood up on her feet, pulling her threadbare cloak around her. "Thanks for the help but... he'll be back. They always come back. They never learn," she said, her voice vacant. "I can help you!" Esmeralda automatically said. The peasant let out a bitter, mocking laugh. "Seriously, who are you? Some rich girl bored of her life? You have no idea what the streets are like! Thanks for the charity, but I'm afraid it's all for naught." the peasant said, her tone jaded.

Esmeralda blinked, pushing down a wave of indignation. "I will help you, I promise!" she whispered. The beggar shook her head. "I've learnt long ago: Paris is no place for promises of hope," she said. The woman pulled her cloak tighter around her. Esmeralda took the extra knife and handed it to her. "Please... in case he does come back," Esmeralda said. The beggar looked up into the masked face. Finally, she took the knife, tucking it on her person. "You shouldn't be out here. Soldiers are unforgiving to people who interfere in their "revels"," she said. The peasant walked away, and Esmeralda stared after her.

She had to get home. It had been a long night. Esmeralda walked down the street, consumed by her thoughts. _"I will help you, I promise!"_ Her own words felt false to her now; could she really help? She was a prisoner herself, powerless, meek.

She removed the makeshift burlap mask, her fingers tracing over the frayed material. In those moments, helping the woman and the father and daughter form last night... she had felt alive. Strong. Her anger that had boiled within her had been released, replaced by much less poisonous sentiment.

Righteousness

She remembered her times on the streets, how night in Paris became a terrifying prospect. Esmeralda had retreated within the Court of Miracles, knowing full well of the dangerous forces which befell unfortunate individuals at night: murderers, thieves, lechers, vile villains of the night roamed the streets, preying on the weak.

_"I've learnt long ago: Paris is no place for promises of hope."_

Esmeralda had made a vow: to protect this young woman. But in a way, she had made a much larger vow, the stipulations of it unfathomable in their implications.

As Esmeralda slid back into her room, her mind fixated on this promise. She fell asleep easily, exhausted by her efforts.

xxx

The morning came too quickly. Esmeralda woke to being gently shaken awake by Cosette, her subdued voice pulling her from restful sleep.

Esmeralda grunted, trying to turn away from her. Her limbs ached from her muscular exertions the night before. "Please miss, the Minister is waiting," she murmured. Esmeralda finally pulled herself out of bed, groaning. She let Cosette pull the corset and chemise onto her, only wincing slightly as her waist was yet again squeezed within her clothes.

Cosette led Esmeralda down to breakfast, where the minister waited. "A little slow today, Cosette?" Frollo said, menacingly. The maid's face paled, and she stammered out an apology. "No need to apologize Cosette. In fact, I was the one who slowed her down," Esmeralda quipped, her voice tired. She sat down at the seat, eyeing Frollo with disdain. Frollo's brows knit together, and he dismissed the maid with a wave of his hand.

"Rather fatigued today, aren't we?" Frollo said, eyeing the dark circles under her eyes. Esmeralda's glance flickered up to the judge, her eyes, though tired, still containing their usual intensity. Her heart fluttered nervously. He couldn't have known. Could he?

"Does it truly matter to you?" she said bitingly. She looked back down at her plate, her mind now wandering off.

Frollo crossed his arms. "I didn't imply that I cared, gypsy. Although, I can make things more comfortable in your room, if anything is to your displeasing," he said. Esmeralda shot him a derisive glance. "If you're so in tune to what I want... let me go," she said.

A grim smile appeared of the judge's face. He rose from his seat and walked over to her. At that moment, Esmeralda felt as if he were some jungle predator, stalking his hapless prey. She stiffened, her muscles tightening in her arms. "Ah, easier said than done, my witch," he said, his silken tone weaving around her ears.

She forced bravado into her voice, "Don't attempt to make things comfortable to me Frollo. Because this is not an enjoyable experience for me at all. Treat me as I am to you. A prisoner," she said, her husky voice edged with bitterness.

Frollo could not resist touching her. His pale fingers now traced her warm, soft jaw. "I thought that I was not your master, witch. Did you not say you are in no way subordinate?" he said. Esmeralda's eyes narrowed. "Just because I am your prisoner does not mean I am lower than you." She said.

Oh, the little witch had some bite! Frollo, although irritated by her constant impertinence, was strangely enjoying combatting her. However, he soon realized the time as the bells of Notre Dame rang the hour. "I must be leaving. But our game is far from over, Esmeralda," he said.

Esmeralda glared at his back as he left. Her restrained anger threatened to tear from her, and a choked cry of frustration escaped her lips. She hated him. She hated how he made her feel helpless.

No more. _No more._

She may be his prisoner in his house. But out there? Out there she would do as she pleased. She would forge her own path. And it would be more _just_ than any of his actions in his entire life.

Esmeralda finished her breakfast, then was escorted back to her room, where her mind began to scheme and plot.

xxx

Thanks for reading! Leave reviews! Thank yaaaaaaa! -Cgal


	9. Chapter 9

An old man hobbled through the street, his gait wobbly and ungainly. It was late, too late for anyone sensible to be wandering the streets. The man looked suspiciously about him, and pulled his cloak on tighter. He had to arrive home. His wife waited patiently for him, probably eyeing the door with anxiety.

However, he failed to notice a younger man emerge from a side street, knife in hand. His hands were tense at his side, and a hungry, greedy shine gleamed in his eyes. He crept forward, making no sound on the street.

The old man turned, to see his assailant about to slice down upon him. He gasped, covering his face with his arms.

However, the knife never reached its destination. A figure leaped from a roof and fell on the man with a loud crash. A scuffle occurred. Hushed, threatening words were spoken. And the young man fled, giving up his useless scheme.

The old man lowered his arms, and his eyes took in the figure. Clad in a cloak, a rough mask cover their face, the hood concealing any recognizable features. "It's you!" he gasped.

Esmeralda eyed the man from behind her mask, giving only a slight nod of her head. "You're much smaller than I imagined," he commented. Before he could say anything else, Esmeralda sped away, whisking down into another street. "Thank you!" The man called out.

xxx

It had been one month since she had first ventured out into the night with a mask upon her face. A month filled with nightly patrols, excitement, and skirmishes in the streets

Each time she scuffled with the scum of Paris, Esmeralda felt more alive, her old fears of Frollo dissipating swiftly. Fear of the more immediate dangers replaced them, and as she conquered new foes, those fears were defeated as well. As she tumbled up and down the streets, she had to restrain herself from shrieking in glee. For once in her life, she welcomed danger. Without thinking, she would plunge into the fray, dagger in hand, mask obscuring her face. Her savage anger, towards Frollo, towards the scum that attacked their victims, towards every injustice, would explode forth from her in burst of energy.

Once she had finished, she would grimly stare after the perpetrators once they eventually thought better and ran off. Then she would be gone, without so much as an explanation to the victims who stared after her in confusion and gratitude.

Eventually, whispers of rumors had begun to circulate. Who was this figure? Was he an angel? A bounty hunter? What was his aim, his purpose?

Esmeralda heard murmurs from the servants. As she passed the staff through the halls, a whisper of the vigilante would slip out, causing the hair on her arms to rise in excitement.

The nights were wonderful, addicting in fact.

The days, however, were much less gratifying. She would drag herself downstairs, force herself to eat, and then go back to her room, sleeping throughout the day. Her bleary eyes would stare out over the table, never connecting with the judge's black eyes. She pushed herself to stay awake, remain alert. Frollo's constant baiting and imperious sneer aggravated her greatly.

But she found herself less afraid of the man. Perhaps it was foolishness. But each morning, as she stared into the eyes of her attacker, she did not feel the same crushing, suffocating fear which used to press all around her.

She would swallow her retorts, and instead wait until nightfall. Then, she would sneak away, and be free once again.

New bruises, bruises from fighting, appeared on her arms. Cosette never asked, assuming the minister had yet again lashed out at the girl.

Esmeralda caught the glances of Cosette. The maid looked more and more horrified each moment she found a new bruise, a new cut in Esmeralda's skin. For that, Esmeralda felt guilty. She wished she could tell the girl to not worry for her, that the bruises were not from what she thought.

In fact, Esmeralda felt strangely proud of the new wounds. They were proof, as she sat across from Frollo, that she was not as helpless as he believed.

But, she was also aware that Frollo was losing patience. Rumors of the masked vigilante were spreading. And each morning, the minister grew more snappish, more irritable.

Although Esmeralda threw herself into the dangers of the night with careless abandon... it was the danger in front of her at meals that gave her a feeling of dark foreboding.

xxx

Esmeralda was tired. Never before had she felt so exhausted. As she sat in front of Frollo at breakfast, she found it difficult to concentrate, to combat her icy opponent. She wanted to go back to her room, where she could sleep undisturbed.

As her thoughts drifted, Esmeralda's head started to drift lower and lower. Her vision was becoming dark, and Frollo's voice sounded far away.

"Esmeralda?" he said as the gypsy slumped back in her chair. He jumped to his feet, and a fear rooted in him. What was wrong with her?  
"Esmeralda?" he said rushing towards her. Her head lolled back, and her face was more at peace than he had ever seen. "Cosette!" he barked out. "Yes sir?" "Bring a warm cloth!"

She looked pale. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles. What had happened? Was she ill? He frowned, attempting to shake her awake.

Suddenly, she gasped, and her eyes fluttered open. "Why don't you kill me?" she said, her words slurred. "What?" Frollo responded. Cosette walked into the room. Taking the bowl and the cloth from her, he snarled at the maid. "Leave us!" Cosette ran from the room, her face pale.

Esmeralda stared up at him defiantly. Her senses were slowly returning to her after she had fainted. The ringing in her ears was gone, but she still didn't lift her head. "Why don't you kill me?" she repeated, gritting her teeth. "I-" he began but Esmeralda quickly interrupted him. "You don't fuck me anymore. Why am I of use to you?" she spat at him.

At that moment, boldness and recklessness forced her to speak. She was barely lucid, and could not longer monitor the words that flew from her mouth.

"We can soon change that fact if you wish!" he retorted, now rising to his feet. "Go ahead. Hit me, slap me, fuck me like a whore. But it no longer matters to me." She said. Slowly, she attempted to stand. "It will never matter how much ...you... hit me," Esmeralda attempted to walk, but tripped falling towards the stone.

He could have let her fall. But Frollo instead caught her, taking her small form to his arms. He knelt down and laid her in his lap. "Let go of me! I would rather smash my head against the stone slabs than have you touch me again!" she cried out, weakly squirming away from him. "You stupid insolent... I am trying to help you!" Frollo hissed, now raising his hand. She flinched trying to move away from his blows. He stopped halfway, his hands shaking, itching to strike the ignorant ungrateful wench.

She looked up at him, her eyes challenging him. But in her face was a weariness and tragedy that stopped Frollo. She was just as beautiful in weariness as she was in anger. Her tragic face turned up to his, her eyes aimlessly wandering.

But another part of him heard her words. He hadn't quenched his lust for her in weeks, and its fiery insistence was plaguing him. Night after night, staying awake, dreaming of her dark form beneath him, dreaming of his own fire being quenched. Even seeing her in his lap, her dark hair surrounding her face, he could feel his cock begin to throb. He wanted her again. His breathing became uneven as he tried to control himself. But all he could see before him was her twisting, naked body curved around his.

Esmeralda saw the libidinous look in his eyes as his gaze traveled down her body. She shivered, now frightened that her respite from his constant abuse of her body would soon be over. Just as that thought crossed her mind, Frollo grabbed her face and pressed his lips to hers, his mouth and tongue greedily taking all it wanted from hers. His impulse burst forth from him, insistent, overpowering. Esmeralda attempted to move her head away, but Frollo's strong, pale hands trapped her. _No_, she thought.

His hands pressed at her breast, trying to undo her bodice. His hands were shaking as he fiercely ripped the fabric. _Stop it!_ Esmeralda thought, a deep coldness paralyzing her.

He grabbed a knife from the table. He cut the laces of the corset, and her bosom sprang free. His head was at her breasts, biting and sucking her nipples. He groaned, at last feeling her soft skin beneath his lips, beneath his hands again. Despair welled within her just as much as pleasure welled within Frollo.

Frollo growled as he buried his face in her breasts, his own animalistic needs overriding any sense of pity he had before. His eyes feasted on her body. He pushed his hands up her skirt. She locked her knees together, but the fight pleased Frollo. He inserted a finger into her tight sex, feeling her walls contract around his finger.

"Stop." Esmeralda murmured, her voice weakened. She was so tired... so weary.

Frollo removed his clothes, revealing his throbbing sex to her.

Finally, Esmeralda snapped. She had enough. "Stop it!" she screamed using all of her strength to move away. Frollo reacted quickly, striking out at her face, his rings sending blinding pain shooting through her skull. Stars danced in front of her eyes, but Esmeralda scrambled away. With one swift kick, Esmeralda hit Frollo in the genitals, sending him flying off of her. She scrambled away finally getting to her feet. She backed away, looking for something, anything to defend herself. She grabbed the crucifix on the wall, the heavy wood becoming a club in her hand.

Frollo was panting on the floor, pained by the sudden blow to his manhood. Rage filled him. How dare she?! "You insolent, ungrateful, conniving, bitch!" He attempted to rise and his dark, wrath filled eyes met the now determined ones of the gypsy. Frollo was quivering with rage, about to lash out and smash this impertinent vixen whom had pushed him away so violently. She stood at the ready, using the holy article as her new weapon. She was half naked, and her body sent Frollo into a fiery rage. Her body had been his to possess, and now she had humiliated him, beat him in his most tender place. She had to pay.

Frollo got to his feet. "Stay back," she said huskily brandishing the crucifix. "Gypsy I have had enough of your impertinence... you've left me no choice... By noon tomorrow, the heads of your people will adorn the walls of this city!" he said, the words flying rapidly from his mouth.

"No!" she gasped, her eyes now filling with fear.

"Oh yes my dear. That is the price one must pay for your crimes." He said, a leering smile spreading across his face.

The walls seemed to close around Esmeralda. It was then she realized there was no way out. There never would be.

Frollo watched as she dropped the crucifix with an enormous crash that rang throughout the room. Her once determined expression turned to one of pain and deep sorrow. Her big green eyes welled with tears.

Esmeralda steeled herself as the tears dropped from her face. "Please do not kill them," she whispered, huge sobs wracking her chest. "I am not a tolerant man. I never have been," Frollo said.

With bitterness and dread, Esmeralda walked towards Frollo on shaky legs. She slowly shrugged off the rest of her clothing, revealing all of herself to the minister. She wiped her tears away, trying to be brave. She tried to think of Clopin, her family, her caravan. _They will all die if I don't obey_, she thought.

"Lie down," she said. "What?" Frollo said, his eyes taking in all of her. "Lie down," she said. He slowly lay down, his cock now growing again. It ached even more.  
She straddled him, then placed his cock into her sex. Frollo groaned. "I will give you everything you want... as long as you do not harm my people," she whispered, eyes welling up with tears.

He was so weak for her flesh. Each moment she stayed inert, he grew mad with desire, with an irrepressible need to ravish her again. All thoughts of logic of calculation were lost, blown away by the volcanic power of his own sinful desires. Incoherently, he muttered under his breath, until he finally gasped out, "Yes."

Esmeralda began to bob up and down, and he groaned as his cock entered deeper into her. She felt disgusted by his pleasure, by the groans he made. She felt disgusted with _herself_ as she started to undulate her hips faster and faster. Waves of decadent pleasure and anticipation crashed over the judge, whose hips began bucking up into his gypsy. His rough hands moved over her body, reaching her breasts. Esmeralda looked away, biting her lower lip until it bled. She tried to concentrate on the salty sweet taste of blood within her mouth, on anything, _anything_, other than what she was doing right now.

Frollo then grabbed her face, turning it to him. "Look at me!" he said drunkenly. Esmeralda did, her eyes filling with tears as she looked down at this repugnant monster who groaned and gasped in disgusting pleasure. Frustrated by her saddened expression, the judge began to rub and pinch at her nipples, hoping for some sort of response from her. A small flicker of arousal fluttered over her face. "You're beginning to like this, witch," he said, a smug smile appearing. Esmeralda was trapped, unable to look away from him. Pain shot through her abdomen, while waves of heat crashed over her body with each stroke of her nipples.

"Moan," he demanded. Esmeralda was pleading to whatever God was above to let this end. Frollo lurched up, and fastened his teeth around her nipple. His tongue laved about, sucking on her breast. A shudder of carnal heat passed through the gypsy, disgusting and alarming her. His other hand flicked her other nipple, assailing all of her senses. She let out an involuntary moan, a whimper of pain and confused pleasure.

The sound tantalized the judge. "Yes my gypsy. Let it overtake you," he murmured, his teeth grazing her ear. Esmeralda mouthed _no_ behind his back, unable to speak. _You have to...do this_. she thought. He began to suck on her breast again. She whimpered again, a delicious sound that caused Frollo to buck faster underneath her. It was at that moment Frollo knew what he wanted. He wanted her to enjoy him. To respond to his touch. To finally accept his passion. His hands grasped her smooth bottom, his fingers going lower to between her thighs. He traveled around her hips, and began to rub at the tender little bud between her legs. Esmeralda's eyes widened, and she tried to stifle a cry of pleasure. No... she couldn't enjoy this. It was wrong. It was too wrong.

He began to rub faster, keeping in time with his thrusts. A pang of hot pleasure settled in her lower stomach. Frollo watched in a sick glee as her face changed, as it took on a desperate edge, begging him to keep going. He rubbed faster and faster, slowly losing his own self-control. She moaned, a cry animalistic in nature. Esmeralda snapped her lips over her teeth, trying to stifle her cries. Frollo in response sent several rolling flicks to her breast, forcing her to cry out. _Please stop,_ she begged. Another wave of pleasure rolled through her. A muffled moan escaped her. Frollo was pushed over the edge, and ejaculated into her, his hands finally ceasing their teasing. He lay back down on the stone floor, his chest heaving. He lay staring at the ceiling, incredibly satisfied.

Esmeralda rolled off of him and lay on the cold stone floor, her blood still rushing violently through her body. Her body ached for the man to touch her again, a desire that Esmeralda detested in herself. The dull ache in her abdomen had returned and her limbs were tired and aching. But no physical pain could match the desolation she felt. She felt so ashamed that she had responded, that she had given him exactly what he desired. Esmeralda felt dirty, used.

She felt like a whore. And to be his whore was the worst feeling on earth.

Esmeralda now realized that she was trapped. He had manipulated her body. And he would continue to do so. Again and again. There was no escape.

She no longer felt strong and fierce as she had last night, running over the rooftops of Paris. Instead, she was defeated, overpowered and dominated by the man who lay next to her. Esmeralda had often held in her tears, attempted to be strong, see a light in her dark imprisonment. But now the tears flowed freely from her. She began to sob, her chest heaving up and down as choked gasps erupted from her.

Frollo lay on his back in a pleasurable haze. He had everything he wanted. She had responded to him. She had quenched his passion better than he could even imagine.

But, now all he heard was her crying. She had cried before, but it was muted, barely perceivable. But this? Her sobs echoed in the chamber, her choked wails sending throbs in his chest. Her cries incited a wave of unease within him. He tried to dismiss her incessant sobbing as he pulled on his robes.

But when he looked down he saw her curled in a ball, hugging her knees to her chest. The muscles in her back were tense, her skin pulled taut over her bony frame. She seemed so small at that moment, the dimness of the room swallowing her up in its vastness. She was shaking uncontrollably, absolutely devastated.

"Stop it!" he said, forcing an icy chill into his voice. He felt oddly detached from his self, as if he were bobbing aimlessly in an endless sea.

He tried to place a hand on her bare shoulder, but she flinched away and turned around. Her face was red, streaked with tears that rolled down from her eyes. Her beautiful face was twisted in grief. "Why me?" she said in a choked voice. "Why did it have to be me?"

Frollo could not answer. She had taken his words from him. Esmeralda tried to move away.

"I hate you." She said. Frollo froze, his own blood cold as ice within him. He tried to remain indifferent, immovable. But her sobs unsettled him more than he cared to say.

Frollo left the girl crying on the ground. He draped her ruined clothing around her, but received no response other than heartbreaking sobs.

xxx

Thanks for reading! Leave reviews! Thanks, bye! -Cgal


	10. Chapter 10

For days, Frollo left her alone. Each night, Frollo would think back on what he had done to her. He played the scenario over and over in his mind. How she had walked on shaky legs to him weakened and exhausted. How she had taken off her clothes, not in passion, but in defeat and compliance. How she had fucked him, despite the pain that must have wracked her body.

How she had sacrificed her own body and dignity for her own people.

Why had he complied? Why did he let her destroy herself like that? Why didn't he simply leave, slaughter the gypsies and let her go? Or, why didn't he simply execute her?

_I shouldn't feel guilty_, Frollo kept telling himself. But in fact, that guilt was tearing him apart. He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, and could barely concentrate on work.

All he could do was listen to the room across the hall, hoping to hear some sort of noise.

Occasionally he heard sobs, but they would die down. She no longer sang nor danced. She would stay in her room, and would probably starve had Frollo not been ordering Cosette to serve her food in there.

_"Why me?" "Why did it have to me?" _her words echoed in his head. Yes, why indeed? Why did he have to fall victim to her spell? Why could he not let her go?

_She liked it_, he thought defensively, remembering her titillated moans. _If she really had, why did she weep then?_ Another voice spoke. He was split in two, by the bestial lust that had enjoyed every moment of pleasuring her, and the monstrous shame that he had done such a thing to her.

xxx

Esmeralda was defeated.

She had no choice anymore. There was no hope to possibly escape.

There was nothing.

She had no more strength to go out into the night. What was the use? They were all doomed anyway.

xxx

Finally, she came from her room.

Esmeralda sat at the breakfast table across from Frollo. Her eye was swollen from the minister's blows. The ugly mark seemed to stare at Frollo, automatically reminding him of what he did.

_Say something_, Frollo's thoughts were buzzing in his head, trying to think of something, anything, to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Esmeralda..."

The gypsy looked up, her eyes bleak and lifeless. Frollo felt a twinge of pain. Gone was the bold, impertinent girl who had once so boldly spoken to him. He had thought that part of her was the problem. But instead, all he felt was longing for that passionate and fiery Esmeralda. "Yes?" she said weakly. Frollo stared into her face.

"Come with me." He said, getting up. She looked at him fearfully. "Up girl, we are visiting an old friend," he said, reaching out his hand. She did not take it and instead walked towards the door alone.

xxx

Esmeralda was covered in a dark cloak and quickly rushed into the carriage. She looked out of the small windows, and an instant longing for her old life welled inside her. Oh how she missed walking around in the sun, out in the city! How she longed to go back to that time where she danced on the streets, petting her Djali.

Frollo saw her eyes tear up as she went into the carriage. She quickly wiped them away, but he had already seen them. Another wave of shame washed over him. He had wanted her so desperately to be his... but he had never thought that she would cause so much turmoil to be stirred within him.

They stopped in front of Notre Dame, its splendor. Esmeralda automatically looked to Frollo. "Is Quasi..." she began. "Still here, yes." Frollo replied curtly. A relieved smile temporarily spread across her face. Her radiant grin struck his body like a physical blow, rendering him incapable. Never would she smile at him like that.

_Why should I care?_ He reminded himself. He tried to remain indifferent, cold to her.

He quickly guided Esmeralda up the steps and into the dark space of the Cathedral.

Although Esmeralda had spent days in this church, she still had the same reaction. Her mouth gaped open as she peered up into the high ceilings of the church, its echo-y spaces making her seem small. "We have no time to be idle," Frollo said in an authoritative voice. She followed him up the winding staircases, sneaking glances at the other intricate parts of the cathedral.

She came to the familiar place of Quasi's loft. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his gentle voice.

"Look, guys I can't leave the bell-tower. Master..."

"I know but..."

"I loathe it when he talks to those statues," Frollo said, his voice harsh. Esmeralda turned and shot him an incredulous look. _What do you expect him to do if he's locked in here all by himself?_ She thought. Frollo saw her glance and frowned, despising the judgement in her eyes. "Quasimodo," Frollo called out, his deep voice ringing through the tower.

"Master, how good to see you!" Quasi leapt out of the shadows, his deformed face made more beautiful with a smile. Esmeralda's heart broke for the man. Now she knew his pain. Never to go out into the town square. Never to have a normal life. To suffer at the hands of this monster.

Quasi shuffled down the ladder, to stand in front of Frollo. "Master who is...?" he stopped when he saw the cloaked woman. Esmeralda looked into his face, and smiled. "Esmeralda!" Quasi gasped rushing towards her. She embraced him, and tears nearly sprang to her eyes. "I will leave you two alone," Frollo said, and he stiffly walked away.

Quasi looked into her face, and all of a sudden he frowned. _The bruise,_ Esmeralda realized. Her hand went to her face. "Esmeralda you're hurt!" he said, his voice saddened and quiet. "It's nothing," she lied, not wanting to worry her friend. "Come, come inside." He said, his eyes filled with concern.

She followed him into the recesses of the bell-tower. He took her to his diorama, where his figures stood as cheerfully as ever. She smiled, taking in her hand one of the villagers. "'I've added a few others. People I've seen in the square."

"They're beautiful," she said. She felt so fragile and weak. She steeled herself. "Esmeralda where have you been? Master said you had left Paris months ago."

A brief flash of anger flashed in her eyes. "Is that what he's been telling you?"  
"Yes! What... what do you mean where have you been?"

"Frollo has been... keeping me in his house?" "Keeping you? Why would he...?" Quasimodo's pure, innocent face suddenly contorted with horror. "He is the one who has hurt you?" he said in a quiet and horrified voice. In an instant, all of Frollo's abuses flashed in front of her eyes. She gritted her teeth. "Yes."

"But... but..." Quasimodo then lowered his voice. "What has he done to you? What use are you to him?" In an instant his libidinous eyes and cries appeared in her mind. Esmeralda's balled her fists in anger, until her arms shook. "Esmeralda?" Quasi's voice sounded far away. "I... I need to sit down," she said weakly.

Quasimodo ran and hastily shoved a stool near the gypsy. Esmeralda sat down and began breathing slowly, trying to steady herself. "What has he done? I'll... I'll kill him I swear!" Hearing such ugly words coming from his mouth broke Esmeralda's heart. "Quasi you can't," '"Esmeralda why would he need you for anything? Why..."

The innocent boy had no idea. _It should stay like that,_ she thought. But Quasi pressed on, clinging to her arm. "Esmeralda, tell me what he's done!" he said. Esmeralda sucked in, and knew she could no longer deny him. "Quasi... do you know what intercourse is?" she said weakly. Quasimodo blinked, now confused. "Yes, its when a married man and woman...well, its inappropriate to discuss in public of course, but its to create a child," he said. "That's what he's told you?" she said her voice quiet. Quasi nodded. "What about lust?" she said, her words nearly failing her. "One of the sins. When a man or woman thinks impurely about another man or woman. Why..." he trailed off. Suddenly, Quasimodo's face twisted, and she knew he understood. "No," he whispered, horrified. Esmeralda bit her lower lip, and nodded, unable to look him in the eye. "He... he.."

"Raped me," she finished quietly.

Hearing that word made Esmeralda want to vomit. She buried her face in her hands. Quasimodo wrapped his lumpy, yet comforting arms around her. "That's impossible, he's a man of God!" he said, his voice aghast. Esmeralda looked up at him, her face screwed into one of hate. "He most certainly is not in my eyes," she said coldly. Quasimodo shook his head, his face twisted in agony. "I'll kill him. I swear I will!" he said grimly. "Quasimodo, you can't kill him. If he dies, you'll be to blame. I don't want you to be killed!" she said, her voice cracking. "I don't care! He's... he's evil!"

"That he is. But... I will not allow you to throw your life away. Not over me. Please can we... just talk about something else? Something hopefully a little more pleasant?" she said. Quasi's face was twisted in grief, and yet he replied, "Sure."

For a while, they talked, and Esmeralda heard from him all his tales from up in the bell-tower. How mass went, how his "friends" were doing.

"Quasi?"

"Yes?"

Esmeralda breathed in. "Why don't you leave here?" Quasi's face looked surprised. "I... I can't leave. You saw what happened during the Festival of Fools. There is no place out there for... something as hideous as me." "You are not a thing, Quasimodo. You are a man. A wonderful, kind, and beautiful man," she responded, touching his twisted face. "Beautiful?" Quasi said confused. "What counts is not your face, but your soul."  
"If I leave... you could come with me!" he said excited. Esmeralda shook her head. "Why not?" Quasi said, confused. "If I leave... Frollo will slaughter my people... I cannot allow that to happen." Quasi shook his head, his face aghast and horrified.

"Quasi, you have a choice to go out there and escape your prison. I suggest you take it," she said, taking his hands in hers.

"And what about you?" he questioned, his voice quiet.

Esmeralda sighed and looked out the window onto the town square. "I will do what I have to. Even if it means... staying in my prison."

All the while, Frollo was listening from below the loft. Every word she said sent through his heart a pang of... sadness? Anger? Longing?

"Esmeralda, we must be leaving soon, the bells won't ring themselves." He called up, his voice cold.

Esmeralda shivered at the sound of his voice. "I'll help you, I swear by it!' Quasi whispered. Esmeralda stood up and placed a hand on is head. "Don't rescue me Quasi. Don't throw away what could be a better life."

Esmeralda embraced the hunchback one last time, and slowly walked down the stairs to where Frollo stood waiting.

She walked past him down the stairs.

Frollo turned to look at Quasi, who eyed Frollo with... anger. Unsettled, Frollo followed the gypsy.

xxx

Esmeralda sat in one of the pews, staring up at one of the statues of Mary. Frollo eyed her carefully. In the light of the large stained glass windows, she looked like an angel, glowing in the darkness. Frollo walked towards her, but then hesitated. She looked deep in thought. Perhaps it was better to leave her alone.

_What are you thinking? Somebody could see her here, could see us together. Take her home,_ he thought. Frollo placed a hand on her shoulder.

Esmeralda flinched, the coldness of his rings seeping through her clothing. "Come now, it is time to leave," he said, his voice dismissive and cold.

"Can't I just sit here for a moment?" she said, her voice weak and tired.

Frollo paused. "Only a moment," he replied.

She nodded and closed her eyes, taking in the silence and peace of the space. Frollo could now clearly see the dark circles beneath her eyes, the weariness of her face. Impulsively, he wanted to touch that face, rest her head against his neck, kiss those lips. Frollo shook off that thought.

Her eyes opened, and she looked up into the beauty of the stained glass. Her green eyes peered up at the figures that were lit by the beautiful sun.

Notre Dame was beautiful. Even Frollo had to admit that Esmeralda had picked a beauteous place to claim sanctuary. _She should have stayed here._ The sudden thought crossed his mind.

_But then she wouldn't be mine. _

Frollo exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hadn't slept ever since... _Stop thinking about it like that! _

"Esmeralda, it is time!" he whispered impatiently. Esmeralda turned, and shot an almost pleading look. But she got up and walked slowly to him. Her eyes were on the ground.

"Hurry along!" he ordered. She walked a little faster but still in a dreamlike trance.

As Frollo guided Esmeralda out the door, he saw the archdeacon from the corner of his eye. The old man folded his arms, and his eyes widened at the sight of the two of them walking out of the cathedral.

xxx

Thanks for reading! Leave reviews! Thank ya! -Cgal


	11. Chapter 11

_"Frollo..."_

_Esmeralda was in his bed, writhing around on his sheets. A hand was between her thighs, and she mewled and moaned in pleasure. "Frollo I'm so hot. I'm burning," she moaned. _

_Frollo climbed onto the bed, removing his robes. Her supple, smooth skin shone in the light of the fire. Her black curls were wildly strewn around her face. She peered at him through half-lidded eyes, and her mouth, that sensuously red mouth, was open, her lips parted slightly. Frollo began to kiss her feverishly, shoving his tongue in her mouth, tasting her. She climbed on top of him, straddling his cock. She lowered herself down, letting out a primal moan as his cock entered her..._

Frollo woke with a start, feeling a sticky sensation between his legs. He cursed to himself as he threw the sheets away, stained by his nightly emission.

Now more than ever, he wanted to ravish the woman who lay in her bed across the hall. He craved her flesh. That sinful, sensuous woman was driving him mad with longing. All thoughts of reason had fled his mind, leaving behind an animalistic instinct that drove him into a hot, obsessive chase.

He left his bed, stepping into the cold hallway. The grayish blue light of early morning lit the corridor. In an almost dreamlike state, he walked to Esmeralda's door and opened it.

He peered into the dark room. Esmeralda had jerked awake, her frightened green eyes almost glowing in the darkness. She had curled into the farthest corner of the bed, away from the door.

Oh, what he wanted to do to her. His arousal was insistent, driving him mad.

Esmeralda stared up at the man, her body instantly feeling paralyzed with fear. She stared at him, and knew instantly he wanted to take her again. Her throat and mouth felt dry, and her head was buzzing.

_If you don't please him, they will die,_ she thought. Esmeralda slowly undid her covers, facing her tormentor. He eyed her with a passion and primal need that shook her to the core.

Frollo watched as she pulled the nightgown over her head. He sucked in air as he eyed her delicious body, her nipples erect from the cold night air. His breeches became uncomfortable, and his cock began to burn, aching for her loins.

He walked slowly towards her, his body burning for her. Such a sweet blissful hell he subjected himself to. He was doomed.

He now stood in front of her, his hands so close to taking what was his. He looked down at the gypsy girl. She stared straight ahead, not looking him in the eye. He suddenly shoved a hand under her jaw and forced him to face him. Esmeralda seemed not to look at him, her eyes glazing over. She was shutting herself down, simply going through the motions. "What do you want?" she murmured, her voice sounding far away, disconnected from her body.

She was submissive. At last, Frollo was the master. A satisfaction fell upon him.

_Take your prize_, he thought. But he found himself unable to move, instead paralyzed by her face, that tragic, dismal face.

He wanted her body. Each fiber of his body was urging him forward.

Instead he shoved her away, sending her reeling back against the wall. He needed to be as far away from the witch as possible. The room felt too small. "Put it on! Put it on!" he thundered, throwing her nightgown to her. Esmeralda pulled on the gown, completely baffled. Frollo's breathing rasped out of him, his own arousal still throbbing with pain. He backed away, his own mind a realm of chaos from the conflicting thoughts within him

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. He leaned against the door, his breathing shallow and quickened. He couldn't be near her. Not now. Not while his own carnal hunger raged within him, threatening to consume her.

He forced himself to walk away, walk back into his room. Frollo shut the door, every movement of his body filled with feverish energy. He tangled his fingers into his hair trying to get a grip. But all he could think about was her naked body so close to him... so close to his touch. And he had denied it.

Why could he not be free of her? Why did she torment him so? She did not want this. That was clear enough. Why then, did she still appear in his mind, her body wrapped around his?

"Please, God have mercy on me!" he muttered quietly.

He fell to his knees, clasping his hands in front of his body. "Lord why do you cause her to taunt me so? Why did you let me fall into her clutches... why...why?!" His room seemed to close around him, his sins suddenly appeared before him one by one. Over and over, his acts of depravity flashed before his eyes. The fire seemed to grow before his eyes, resembling the pits of hell.

Frollo's tone grew desolate, frantic. "What have I done? And why have you cast her upon me?'

"I followed your word. I gave my life to you. And yet you have let me fail!" he exclaimed, defensive.

Frollo could hear the admonitions of his father, the judgments of the various priests who had stared over him so scrutinously He was seething with anger, with guilt, with desolation.

But, all the while, a single unutterable truth rang as loudly as the bells of Notre Dame in his mind.

Finally, he collapsed before the fire, head buried in his hands. "It's my fault."

Esmeralda listened from her room, hanging on to each word.

xxx

Thanks for reading! -Cgal


	12. Chapter 12

The morning came, and the two figures which slept next door to each other slowly awakened from restless slumbers

Frollo awoke yet again on the floor in front of his fireplace, neck stiff, back aching. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache ache behind his eyes. _I have gone mad_, he thought, trying to pull himself up. His joints ached and cracked, and he began to dress for the day,

Esmeralda woke, her sleep filled with confusing dreams. She could still here his voice, over and over again, bellowing at her. _"Put it on! Put it on!"_

There had been such a savage lust in his eyes, but he had not slammed her into the bed. Instead he had pushed her away. The wild anger that she had seen within his eyes as he had shoved her was forever ingrained in her mind.

The two met at breakfast. Neither one of them spoke.

Frollo left for work, taking his steed out instead of going into that confining carriage. He tried to clear his mind, let the morning air do some good. For a moment, as he concentrated on riding the horse, his mind was unoccupied, and clear. That turned into a very different story once he was in the Palace of Justice.

"Minister, we caught this man trespassing on the grounds of the de Archambault. He was stealing from their pantry." Stated a soldier, saluting the formidable judge.

Judge Frollo waved his hand. "Send him to the torture room, I shall be there in a moment."

He felt distracted. Aimless. His thoughts were occupied by the gypsy, her beautiful body, her glazed over eyes. Frollo slammed his desk shut, and went down the stairs to the dungeons, where the prisoners each lay in their cells. He stopped at the torture room, and unlocked the door.

The man hung from the scaffold, completely stripped of his clothes. He was clearly starving, as evidenced by the bones that jutted from his hips, and his ribs that stuck out from his chest. A soldier held a whip, awaiting orders.

Frollo faced the dark skinned man_. Another gypsy_, he thought. He stared at the man, keeping his face stone-like, emotionless. "Do you know why you are here?" he said. The man picked up his head, and did not speak. He stared at Frollo in such a desolate way. "Well? I hear no defense. I assume you agree with the punishment you shall be given," Frollo said coldly.

Frollo nodded to the guard, who swung the whip over his head, striking the gypsy's back with a vicious sounding snap. The man did not cry out, but lurched forward, his limbs shaking in pain. He was swaying unsteadily on his feet.

Usually, Frollo would leave, go about his business. But today, he could not move. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the jutting bones, the sallow skin, the general unhealthiness of the beggar. "_Tell me Frollo. Have you ever been starving? Have you ever had to fall asleep, night after night, your stomach in agony, your mind weak?" _Esmeralda's words echoed through his head. Frollo had never looked intently at the perpetrators of crimes such as thievery, murder, indecency. He had never noticed the hunger, the sickliness in these criminals before. How desperate must he have been, to wander into a noble's home, surely to be found, just to find sustenance for survival?

Another crack of the whip and the man let out a cry of pain. In an instant, Frollo remembered Esmeralda's cries of pain as he had raped her. Her eyes welling with tears as he had ripped through her that first night. _"Why don't you just kill me?" _With each whip crack, another image of her pained visage flashed before his eyes. Her sobs echoed in his ears, drowning out any thoughts he had. The man began to bleed, the metallic smell of blood contaminating the dungeon.

"Stop," he found himself saying, his hands trembling. "Stop!" he commanded.

The soldier looked to him in surprise. "Minister?"

What the hell was he doing? The man was thief. An ingrate. It was his duty to punish this gypsy. It was his God given right! Frollo was trying to steady himself, but his ears still rang. "Minister, the common punishment is fifty lashes. We are only at ten," the guard stated monotonously.

"Do you consider me an imbecile? Do you think I do not know the punishment for thievery? I, a man who was sentencing criminals before you were out of the womb?" Frollo thundered, trying to regain his normal composure. The guard gulped. "No sir."

"Then do not question my authority again, or it will cost you most dearly. I do believe the prisoner has had enough for today. Perhaps tomorrow will yield a much more _utilitarian_ result. Perhaps even the Court of Miracles," he said smoothly, taking cares to keep his voice steady. The guard, baffled by this change, simply said. "Yes sir," and left the room hanging the whip on its hook.

The gypsy man was equally baffled. Frollo tried not to look at him, and turned facing the wall. "Listen to me and listen well. You can save yourself from the punishment which is so rightfully yours." Frollo paused. "If you tell me now where this Court of Miracles lies... I will release you and that shall be the end of it. But if you continue to resist, I assure you the punishment will be severe."

Frollo turned. The prisoner's face was the same, with no change to his features. "I suppose I will have to be punished then," he said, his voice hoarse, weakened. Frollo glared at him. "So be it." He replied. Frollo reached for the whip on the wall. He positioned himself behind the gypsy, facing the lacerations on his back. He raised his arm with the whip, preparing to strike. _Pass your judgement_, he ordered himself. _Punish this sinner_.

Another voice crashed into his head, overpowering any other thoughts in his mind.

_"I know that my people are thieves. That they are not the most pious. But then, how can one be honest if they keep being wrongly accused of crimes due to the color of their skin?"_

Her warm, fierce voice echoed in his head. Her fiery eyes appeared in his mind.

And Frollo knew he could not go further. He lowered his arm, and rolled up the whip. Without exchanging another word with the gypsy, he hung the whip back up and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

He had failed. His sacred duties. His vow as a judge. Each rule, every moral value which had been instilled in him as a boy... shattered. Because of that damned gypsy!

No. Because he himself was weak to her words. He had gone soft.

He had to clear his head.

xxx

Frollo rode to Notre Dame, the midmorning bells tolling loudly. He tied his horse to the post, then walked slowly to the sanctuary, crossing through the throngs of vendors and gypsies which entertained foolish children. He did not admonish the youths though, too occupied with his own thoughts of failure.

Frollo opened the large doors, and made his way inside, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He crossed into the church, still empty, not yet filled with the throngs of devoted Catholics.

Looking up into the peaceful space, he could hear his own gall at finding himself here. Weak. Conflicted. The turmoil in his heart matched nothing else.

Frollo went to mass each Sunday, as any Christian should. But here, alone among the parapets of stone, underneath the eyes of the many saints which lined the walls, he was aware of his own mortality. His own sins. The eyes of God seemed to look down upon him, filled with disdain.

The judge found a pew and knelt down on the small bench, the sounds echoing off the high stone ceilings. He breathed, and clasped his hands in front of him, casting his eyes downward.

"Pater noster, qui in caelis..." Frollo began his usual prayers. But the words felt false in his mouth. He shut his eyes tight, trying to concentrate. But each time he did, the sobs of Esmeralda rang through his head. Damn it. He had never cared before. Why could he not whip that man? He was guilty. Caught in the act. He had broken God's law. Thou shalt not steal.

_So have you,_ he thought, remembering each grievance towards the gypsy. Remembering the impure thoughts that had clouded his mind from the moment he saw her.

"Frollo. How unexpected of you,"

_No, not him_, Frollo thought, shooting a hostile stare at the archdeacon, Father Maurice, who now walked towards him, his robes of pure white glaring at the judge. "Father, whatever conversation or quarrel you have with me, it shall wait to be addressed after my prayers," he said, irritated. "Ah Frollo. Always so serious, so pious. Makes one wonder why you have not been to confession in three months," Father Maurice said, raising an eyebrow. Frollo straightened up, facing the priest. "Sometimes new routines must replace old ones. The work at the Palace of Justice requires my undivided attention." he clipped smoothly. "Attentions that perhaps are distracted on something, or _someone _else," Father Maurice said, his blue eyes critical.

Frollo began to feel cornered, defensive. "I know not of what you speak," he said, turning to leave. "I know she is in your house Frollo! You cannot deny this any longer!" the priest said, his voice sharp, admonishing the judge. Frollo said nothing. "You cannot hide from the eyes of God, Frollo! Remember what I told you!" he cried out as the judge slammed the church door shut with a loud boom.


	13. Chapter 13

Another night, another meal spent in silence.

Frollo knew that all his actions had frightened her, shut her up, made her draw into herself. Her eyes, when not fixed on her food, stared up at him blankly. She picked at her food, moving them around on her plate. Her eyes were red, from tears he knew she had been shedding daily, hidden away in her room.

Frollo's knuckles turned white as he gripped the arms of his chair. Her vacant face... each time he looked at it, a wave of absolute revulsion would pass through him. It was like staring into the face of death, of absolute defeat.

He hated to look at her empty, soulless face, which now bowed so compliantly to him.

"Damn it, talk to me," he muttered darkly under his breath.

Esmeralda heard him. "What?" she said quietly.

With sudden anger, Frollo smashed his fist against the dinner table, startling her.

"Damn it, yell at me! Scream, complain, whine! Anything! Say something!" he said rising from his chair. Esmeralda jerked back in her chair away from him, her eyes widening in confusion. Frollo strode over to her, his robes whipping around his body. He cornered her in her chair, his face positioned inches from hers. "Tell me gypsy! Tell me what you have been burning to say! Tell me everything in that mind of yours! Insult me, berate me! But don't sit here as vacant as a shell!" His eyes burnt with a feverish insanity that frightened her.

Esmeralda had no idea what to think. She was confused. "What... what do you want me to say?" she said, trying to wrap her mind around his actions. "Anything! How do you really feel?!" he thundered, his hands now shaking her shoulders. "About what? This... imprisonment... you?" she said, her voice trembling.

"Yes you idiot! Tell me everything!" Frollo said, a feverish lunacy overtaking him.

Esmeralda's anger flared once more. "Don't call me an idiot," she said, gritting her teeth together. Frollo could sense she was so close, so very close to losing her temper. "How can I possibly tell you what you think... if you'll only punish me in return?" she said, trying to back away from his face.

"Well, I suppose this is a conundrum we have here, witch," Thinking of one last thing, Frollo grabbed her face in his hands and shoved his lips against hers.

The result was explosive. Frollo cried out as he felt a sudden pain in his lips. He pulled away and placed a hand to his lips. "You... bit me!" he said incredulously as he looked at the blood which now stained his hand. Esmeralda's breaths were rasping out of her. She was quivering with rage. _Don'_t, she thought, trying to contain herself. But it was all in vain.

Esmeralda lurched up in her chair, causing Frollo to step back. "Do you really want to know how I really feel?" she said, her voice low and dangerous. "Yes, my temptress," he said, a grin spreading across his face.

"I always thought that in every human person was the ability to do good. To overcome their darkness," she paused. Her face twisted into one of anger. "However, I have been proven wrong. You have no goodness in you. None. I am sure of _that _now." She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, absolute revulsion in her eyes. "Tell me more," he said, leering at her. That terrible leering grin incited in her an unfettered anger. "Every time I look at you, I see all that is wrong with humanity. You..." she paused, trying not to lose her temper.  
"What Esmeralda? Tell me! TELL ME!" his voice boomed in the stone space.

"Sadist. Vile Pig. Torturer. Demon. Monster! You are my worst nightmare. A man who has power, who claims to do good! But that power is used to hurt, to torture, to cause pain! I hate you with all of my heart!" she went on.

The words spilled out of her mouth like acid, and the stream only continued. She barely knew what words she was saying. Her vision seemed laced with red, her heart was pounding.

Frollo stood there, and his smile grew larger. She was back.

"Your lust. You are no better than the animals that fuck anything that walks! You foul, perverted, sadistic son of a bitch!" Esmeralda exclaimed. She finally stopped, unable to carry on. She quivered with incomparable rage.

But as her anger ebbed away, she now knew her punishment was nigh.

Esmeralda waited for his blows, his abuses. But nothing happened.

Frollo instead walked back to his seat, carefully sat back down, and continued eating his dinner.

Esmeralda still stood her face baffled. "Esmeralda, your dinner is getting quite chilled," he said, his voice dismissive and casual.

"What the hell was that?" she exclaimed angrily.

Frollo looked up at her, and then back down at his plate. She placed her hands on her hips. "An explanation would be most appreciated, minister," she said and her sarcastic biting tone sent through Frollo a flutter of... joy? Lust?

He turned to the young woman. She was still fearful. He could see it in her eyes. But the way she stood, the tilted angle of her head... her impertinence and unruliness had returned.

"I was missing the _interesting _dinner conversations," he said simply. Her face twisted into one of outrage.

"You... goaded me on... because you were _bored_?!"

Frollo now hesitated to answer her. If he said yes that would be the simple answer. But... it wasn't the truth. There was so much more to it. So much more he didn't want to admit to himself.

"I'm finished," he muttered and he rose to leave. "Oh no we're not," the girl said, and she blocked his entry from the door.  
What was she doing? Esmeralda realized this could end in disaster. He could snap, lash out at her again... or worse, threaten her caravan. And yet, she needed an explanation for whatever shit had just occurred.

"Esmeralda move." He commanded. But the stubborn girl simply crossed her arms over her chest and stared into his face.

"I don't understand you, Frollo. I fight you off, and then you threaten my people. I stay quiet and submissive and you grow _bored_. Explain yourself!" she said in a quiet but forceful tone. Frollo stared into the green eyes of the gypsy. He was aware of how close he was to her. He could feel her anger and confusion tingeing the air. He could feel the raw emotions that coursed through her blood, emotions that clouded his own judgement.

His head was reeling. She had cornered him, an unpleasant, foreign situation the minister now discovered that he loathed. His senses grew less in tune to his mind. Underneath her scathing glance, he could feel all sense of calculation fly from his head.

In a sudden passionate outburst, Frollo began to speak. "When I saw you dancing at the Festival of Fools... I knew I wanted to possess you. In my bed, in my house, in my life. I wanted you; Not just because of your body," he paused. "But because of that fire you possessed. The fire you still possess, which simultaneously drives me mad with anger and..." he hesitated.

"What?!" she demanded. "Infatuation," he thundered, losing his last element of self control.

He pressed forward, backing her into the door. His face twisted into one of anguish.

"You... you alone are the only person, woman or man, who has openly _defied _my authority at every turn. And as much as I want to strike you down for your _insolence_," he said, his teeth now bared in fearsome savagery. "...another part of me relishes in that irritating combativeness. I find myself want to hear that temptress's glorious voice berating me at every turn." He continued, his hands gripping her shoulders firmly. He inhaled, trying to take in her heady scent, and looked straight into the gypsy's now shocked eyes.

"When I took you here, I renounced my vow of celibacy. I have sentenced myself to those fires of hell. And yet I cannot release you. Even after I thought I was satisfied by having your body, I cannot bear to part with you. Nothing shall _ever _be enough. I want..." he stopped himself, unable to describe all of the turmoil that had swirled in his mind for the past weeks. He stepped closer, and saw the girl's new fear in her eyes.

"What?' she asked, her voice breathless. The young woman had listened to him quietly, slowly taking in each word, and a deep fear had settled within her. His hands squeezed at her arms, his fingers digging painfully into her skin. His eyes burnt with a new, desperate fire.

Frollo was too close to her. Esmeralda threw her hands out, and with all her strength pushed his broad chest from her. "Let go of me!" she demanded, her voice hoarse. Frollo's fingers dug in tighter, as if his grip could in some way make her understand what he did not want to utter to her. Esmeralda gritted her teeth, resembling a wild, cornered animal. With a final shove, she freed herself, and backed away from him quickly. Frollo turned, and his eyes burrowed into hers. For a moment, the two locked eyes, the sound of their ragged breaths the only sound in the hall.

What _did_ he want? Frollo could barely answer that question himself. All he had wanted was to be free of whatever spell she had put him under. He thought that quenching his lust for her would do break her hold on him. But now... he desired an unknown _more_ from her. Too much.

As he locked eyes with the gypsy, he could feel her repulsion of , he wanted more. But she would never relinquish that unnameable _more_. Not with the way she looked at him now. With fear, with disgust.

Frollo stormed past her and left the room, regretting that he said anything to her.

Esmeralda stood in shock, completely baffled.

She peeked out of the dining hall and saw Frollo leaning heavily against a wall. His back was to her, and one hand ran through his silver hair, as if wanting to rip it from his scalp.

He walked down the hall, his back bent, his posture now assuming one of a defeated, damned man.

xxx

Thanks for reading ya'll! Please review! -Cgal


	14. Chapter 14

The next few days passed by relatively uneventfully. Frollo attempted to return to business as usual, regarding the gypsy with an exaggerated level of coldness. However, he still saw Esmeralda's weary, accusing glance form the corner of his eye, watching him ever so carefully.

However cold Frollo acted, he still attempted to coax more words from the gypsy, each dinner dangling a new piece of verbal bait in front of her. Esmeralda saw past the ploy. But, even she could not help herself to respond to his manipulations. Little by little, she began to speak with him, her voice edged with sarcasm each time.

And each time she spoke, Frollo could feel himself becoming more intrigued by the gypsy. As much as he claimed to not care... Frollo still felt a sense of triumph that the girl no longer sat dismally in the corner, mulling over her own thoughts.

But, little did he know, the gypsy's nights still were troubled. Esmeralda was haunted by nightmares, Frollo's anguished and obsessive face leering above her like some shadowy specter.

What was worse than the dreams though, were the thoughts that drifted in and out of her head as she tried to sleep. Her mind mulled over his outburst, trying to make sense of it. He acted so cold, so cruel to her... and yet, in that moment she had seen a different, alarming emotion. Something more than lust.

Something which she could not name, and that unknown frightened her.

Frollo had not locked her door in a week. After lying awake for several hours staring at her ceiling, Esmeralda pulled herself up from her bed. She crept out of her room, and walked to the room next door, where she could hear Frollo's deep voice intoning prayers.

_What am I doing? _

She stopped in front of the door, pausing. For some reason, she needed to talk to him. She needed to speak to someone, anyone, just to calm her racing heart that pounded in her chest. Someone real. Sitting alone in her room, with only her mind to keep her company... she was frightening herself.

It was out of utter madness that she now knocked on his door, interrupting the minister's stream of prayers. She heard shuffling and grumbles of anger. "What?" he said as he opened the door. His eyes widened as he saw her before him.

Esmeralda found her mouth had gaped open, and no sound was coming out. Taking a deep breath, she said, "May I come in?"

_What is she doing? _Frollo had no idea how to possibly respond, except to step back and let her into his room.

She walked into the room, only lit by the roaring fire at the foot of the bed. Frollo eyed her as she carefully sat down on his bed, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

Before he could say anything, she spoke. "Tell me something about yourself," she said. _Where did that come from?_ She thought.  
"What?" It was now Frollo's turn to be confused and baffled. "Just... anything. Your family?" she said, her voice urging him on.

"You interrupted my prayers to partake in useless conversation?" he said, his tone growing darker. "I just would like to know where my captor came from," she said wryly.

Frollo could sense she had absolutely no idea what she was doing, and decided to humor her. "I belong to a noble family, the Frollos le Tirechappe," he started. "I became a minister at the age of twenty-five and was appointed as judge of Paris ten years later. My parents have both passed on into the Lord's keep," he said bluntly.

Esmeralda crossed her arms and stared into the fire. She then turned back to him and said, "I could've learned that from anyone. In fact, I already knew everything you have said."

"What is it that you want then?" he said, his tone sharper.

"I don't know, just... tell me. Did you have any siblings?" she stammered.

For the first time, she saw Frollo's face soften. For a brief moment, she could imagine what Frollo could've looked like as a younger man. "Yes... a brother." "Can you tell me about him?"

Frollo sat at the other edge of the bed, careful to not sit close to Esmeralda. "My brother's name is Jehan. He was unruly to say the least. A foolish, rebellious boy, he managed to get into whatever trouble there was to get into. I had to be the one who disciplined him, tried to set him straight. However, he was very disinterested in becoming virtuous." He said sharply, frowning.

Esmeralda interrupted, her tone skeptical. "I don't know, you have some very high expectations in terms of virtue and morality. Was Jehan really that bad?" Frollo narrowed his eyes. Oh, how little this witch knew! "Jehan was, and still is to this day, lost. He was a drunkard, a lazy, unproductive lout. I haven't seen him in 16 years since..." He stopped. "Since when?" Esmeralda asked, seeing a look of fury twist his features.

Frollo began to remember. "Our parents had perished. I was in charge of organizing the service. We were in Notre Dame, at the funeral mass." Even now, he could remember the somber, darkened space. It had been overcast that day, the only lights within the sanctuary cast from the candles lining the walls. His parents lay in their coffins. The priest, an older man, intoned the Requiem mass.

"Jehan was twenty at the time. To say he was not taking their deaths well was an understatement. He showed up to mass, late, drunk and reeking like the prostitutes in the West side."

Frollo now remembered Jehan stumbling into the sanctuary, a stupid boorish grin on his face. He had made the loudest of rackets, stumbling past the other members of the congregation to take his place next to him. _"Where the devil have you been?"_ Frollo had snarled at him, his nostrils instantly detecting the alcohol on his breath.

Esmeralda raised an eyebrow. Frollo continued on, saying, "I tried to quiet him. My parents had been well respected by the royal court, so the Lords and Ladies were in attendance. "

Frollo could see the finely dressed men and women in his mind, staring at him and his brother as the two had exchanged bitter words under their breath.

"However Jehan could not be silenced. He began to yell vulgarities, stumbling forward to the altar. The whole mass had to be stopped," he said.

Frollo remembered vividly his brother's stumbling walk, and remembered clearly his words. _"What a fucking prick,"_ said Jehan looking at his father's coffin. _"Jehan, control yourself!"_ Frollo had said, shocked. _"Come on, Claude. Admit it! You're happy he's dead so you can get his job!"_

_"Jehan!"_ Frollo had snarled.

"What did you do?" Esmeralda said, frowning. "I did what anybody should. I dragged him out of the service and locked him up in the Church annex." he said.

_"Let go of me! Fuck you!"_ Jehan had yelled as Frollo placed the man in a headlock and dragged him up the winding staircase. "What he did was... shameful. Mortifying. If my father had seen the spectacle which was his funeral, he would have been livid."

Esmeralda thought for a moment. "What he did was awful. But he was drunk. He probably wasn't dealing with it well. But... is that one incident really why you haven't spoken with him in 16 years?" She crossed her arms, still skeptical.

Frollo froze. The gypsy was so close to his secret shame.

When Frollo shoved Jehan into the annex he had punched him in the face, filled with wrath. Jehan had gone reeling, dropping to the floor_. "What the fuck?"_ he had groaned. _"Do you know the magnitude of what you've done? What sort of mortifying blasphemy you've performed? How much you've shamed this family?!"_ Frollo had thundered.

_"Calm down Claude, you're beginning to sound like him,"_ Jehan slurred_. "I cannot possibly be calm! What were you thinking? What is wrong with you?!" _

_"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you! You're throwing a great an honorable soiree for a man who did not give a flying fuck about us!"_

_"Watch your tongue boy!"_

_ "No. Come on. Doesn't part of you just love he's dead? Doesn't part of you feel glad he's gone? You get his job, you get his house, and you don't have to deal with his pious crap. 'cept I guess you're making up your own pious crap." _Jehan had said.

To this day, Frollo could remember the hot, exploding rage which had bubbled within him. His heart pounded as loud as thunder as he had reached over and wrapped his fingers around Jehan's throat. _"Shut up! Shut up damn it!"_ Frollo had snarled, squeezing his fingers. Jehan began to gag, his eyes bulging out from his head.

Finally, Frollo had come to his senses, and let go of him. Frollo had locked the room and returned to the service. All the while, a secret shame filled him. In a way, deep within him, he was glad his father was dead. Happy he was gone, no longer able to criticize whatever he did.

Frollo felt liberated. It disgusted him.

"Frollo?"

Esmeralda's voice brought him back to the present. The gypsy looked at him intently, her eyes taking in all of the small emotions which flickered on the judge's face. He was keeping something buried. Something painful for him.

Frollo tried to recover, "It is a terrible thing to humiliate one's own family name so publicly in such a vulgar way. I could not allow Jehan to continue to humiliate the Tirechappe name. After the funeral, I told him he was no longer welcome in our-my-home," "So you banished him?"

Frollo frowned. "Not banish. I only told him I did not want him in my affairs. Jehan could stay in Paris had he wished. However, he disappeared. I haven't seen him since." Esmeralda's mouth opened her curiosity overwhelming her. "You're leaving something out," she said, crossing her arms. Frollo smiled grimly. "The past is better left untouched, gypsy. Especially mine."

"You're afraid I'll realize your flaws? I'm pretty sure we've established those flaws already," she said, her words sharp as flint.

Frollo's grin became more strained. "The gypsy aims and fires her arrows with ease. Care to share with me your weaknesses so I may do the same?"

"I've always been upfront about who I am, where I come from." She retorted.

"Of course. The honest gypsy." Frollo said.

"Well, perhaps dear Minister, you could enlighten me and dispel any doubts I have in you," she said dryly.

Frollo turned away from her. "What happened between my brother and I is my business. It is my own burden to bear." Esmeralda rose from the bed and walked over to him. A painful curiosity overwhelmed her. "Jehan said much about your father. But... not your mother."

"My mother was a good woman. My brother had no quarrels with her," he said shortly.

"Then, what was the problem with your father?"

"There was no problem with my father!" he said sharply. His tone became harsher, strained in anger.

She looked into his face, and saw a myriad of emotions brewing there. Anger, defensiveness. "I suppose it is not my business to find out." She said quietly. "You would be _correct,_" he said severely.

Esmeralda looked into the black eyes of Frollo, aware of a raw nerve she had touched upon. His lips had pressed into a straight line, his eyes burned with anger and shame. "I do not have the wisdom of age, Frollo. But... from what I can see, you have many skeletons in your closet. And... maybe it would be best to confront them. At least then you would be honest with _yourself_!" she said.

"Did you come here to lecture me?" Frollo said, narrowing his eyes. Esmeralda shook her head. "Not intentionally. Who could possibly have the gall to lecture the master of piousness?" she said dryly. She paused. "But...you have some shadows in your past. Shadows which in my opinion, made you the bastard you are today," she said. "

Esmeralda shook her head. She turned to leave.

Frollo balled his fists enraged by her ignorance. How dare she judge his family?

But as she left, he was aware of all the things he had not spoken aloud. All his memories flooded back now, each one more vivid than the last.


	15. Chapter 15

Frollo hurried Esmeralda along the steps of Notre Dame. "Come along now," he said, pushing her. "I'm not a child," she muttered. Frollo ignored her and opened the church doors.

Once inside, Esmeralda yanked off her hood, annoyed by the hot fabric wrapped around her head. "Keep it on," Frollo ordered. "There's nobody here, calm down," Esmeralda retorted. Frollo shot her a glare, then pulled her up the steps to see Quasimodo.

Quasimodo slid down the ladder from the loft, a smile on his face. "Hello my friend," Esmeralda said, her teeth flashing in a radiant smile. Quasimodo greeted her, clasping her dark hands in his pale ones. "Come on, you have to see the new figures I've painted," he said, pulling her up the stairs. Before he left however, he shot Frollo a hateful, derisive look.

Esmeralda followed Quasimodo to the model city. She sat beside him. "How are you," Quasimodo whispered, keeping his voice low. "I'm fine." Quasi shot her a suspicious glance.

"Quasi, stop worrying, I'm fine."

"Hmmph."

Quasimodo looked down at his hands, and picked up one of the figurines. Esmeralda picked up one and began to paint. "Just tell me if I'm doing something wrong. I'm no painter," she said wryly.

"Well, even if you can't paint, you dance better than anyone." he said.

"Dance_d_," she reminded him. Quasi looked at her, sadness in his face.

"Never mind that. I would tell you about my week, but it's been boring." She said. _Liar_, she thought to herself, Frollo's agonized face flashing before her eyes.

"As has mine."

_Does he know that I'm lying?_ "Well, this is pretty dull in terms of conversation," Esmeralda said, smirking.

For a while they sat in comfortable silence, working on the figurines. "I saw Phoebus two days ago," Quasimodo blurted out. Esmeralda stopped, feeling cold. She looked up at Quasimodo. "Where did you see him?" she said, her voice quiet. Quasimodo replied, "In the church with a lady. I think her name was-"

"Fleur De Lys," Esmeralda concluded.

Quasimodo frowned. "They're getting married in a few weeks." "What?!" Quasi exclaimed. Esmeralda placed a hand underneath her chin and leaned on the table. "But... I thought-"Quasi, things change," Esmeralda said. "I thought you loved each other." He said bluntly.

Esmeralda froze, thinking. "I did love him. But... Phoebus is getting married. He's a foot-soldier now. He needs to marry into a wealthy family," she said mechanically. "Why not find him? I could find him, talk to him!" Quasimodo said excitedly. Esmeralda shook her head. "No... I have to stay with Frollo. Or my people... they will be ruined."

For a moment the two sat in silence. "You know... there was a time... when I thought you and I could..." Quasi started, but then began to blush, embarrassed. Esmeralda smiled weakly. "Quasi. I see you as a brother to me. That to me is more significant than any knight in shining armor," Esmeralda murmured. Quasi then replied, "I suppose no one would love me."

"_I _love you. Not as a lover. But as a friend. You will find someone to love you in that way. I promise." She said, raising his head to hers. Quasi turned away. "No one will. Not if I look like this," he grumbled.

"Someone will see past that. I did," she said, smiling. Then, she frowned. "But staying in this tower won't help that issue, will it?" she said teasingly. "You know why I stay up here. Plus, master Frollo would punish me again," Quasi said quickly.

"Quasi, you're stronger than you know. Stronger than me. Stronger than anyone," she said quietly.

Quasimodo smiled at the compliment. "I think that's wrong. There's nobody stronger than you Es,"

Esmeralda shook her head, a smile on her face.

xxx

Frollo yet again left Esmeralda alone in Notre Dame. "I will be back momentarily," Frollo said, climbing up the stairs to Quasimodo.

Esmeralda sighed, enjoying the silence in Notre Dame. She walked across the tiled floor, and sat underneath one of the huge stained glass windows.

She heard footsteps. He couldn't be back so soon? Esmeralda turned, and saw the archdeacon, Father Maurice crossing over to her. The sight of this gentle man brought a smile to her lips. "Good afternoon child," he said, his warm voice comforting to her. "Hi," she said.

Father Maurice walked beside her, and sat with her in the pew. "I haven't seen you dancing about in the square," he commented. Esmeralda looked away, frowning. "New living quarters," she stated.

The two sat in the silence, drinking in the peace of the sanctuary. "How have you been Father?" she asked. "The Church has been relatively peaceful. Notre Dame is not subject to the turmoil of man." "Turmoil?" Esmeralda asked good naturedly. "One hears rumors of the outside world. Hunger. Corruption. Vigilantes."

Esmeralda perked up. "Vigilantes?" "Ah, yes. A fugitive savior if you will. What a story! It was enough to exciten an old curmudgeon such as myself," he said. "However, the man has disappeared. But the people's memories haven't. I fear they are living on a false hope," He continued. "Come now. One figure is not all that important," Esmeralda said quietly.

"But you are wrong. One man with enough will can change a person's heart, lift their spirits and inspire to victory. Just as much as one man can crush that hope in one fell swoop. Jesus was one man. So was Moses." He paused. "And so was Mary," he finished.

"Mary was known for virtue. That was all." Esmeralda said wryly. "Yes. But she was also known as the woman who raised Jesus. The woman who probably taught him about human, not divine, virtue. One can argue that without Mary, Jesus could have become corrupted."

"Careful Father. That sounds like blasphemy. " she said playfully.

"I do not see how it is blasphemy to give credit where credit is due. She birthed him. She raised him. She sat at the bottom of the cross as he gave Himself up for man."

"All right. But not all women birth the Son of God father." "But many people, not just women, have the opportunity to inspire the people to do good and proper justice."

"Like this vigilante." She stated.

"Precisely. However, now that he is gone-" he started.

"That inspiration for good in the people is gone as well." She finished grimly.

For a moment, Esmeralda thought he _knew_. She thought that in some way, this archdeacon had looked through her, knew exactly who she was. Esmeralda then shook it off as impossible.

The archdeacon's face changed and he leaned in to her. "Child, you can save yourself. Claim sanctuary again. I vow to you Notre Dame will protect you." Esmeralda froze.

"Father... I cannot."

"Esmeralda," The gypsy looked back, hearing Frollo's voice. Father Maurice touched her arm, his eyes concerned. "I have to go," she whispered, and she threw her hood on, walking back to Frollo.

The judge's eyes narrowed at both her and the archdeacon. What had they spoken about? However, Esmeralda still walked over to him, not staying in the Sanctuary. Her devotion to her people was astounding. After what she had been through, she still would not run away and hide like some child. She bravely faced her fate.

It was admirable. And he envied her for that quality, that devotion.

Frollo left with Esmeralda, aware of the stone figures of saints that glared at him on the way out.

xxx

Thanks for reading! Please review! -CGal


	16. Chapter 16

Esmeralda thought intently about the talk with both Quasimodo and Father Maurice. _Quasi, if only you could see how weak I really am_, she thought. Father Maurice's words had struck her, nearly bringing shame on her. Sure, it was hard to actually go out into the night. Especially after what had happened she no longer felt it was worth the effort. So many people needed saving. And she could not save all of them. Did she really make a difference?

Except... the archdeacon had pointed out an undeniable fact. People did rely on her. They had counted on her to save them, to make them believe that there was someone out there who valued the lives of outcasts. Someone like them.

Someone who had abandoned them,

_Don't think about it_, she thought, trying to shake off her feelings of shame. She instead looked ahead of her at the judge, who looked out the window. Remembering Quasi's obedience, his quiet, kind natured smiles, she wondered how the hell had Quasi turned out so wonderful with so cruel of a master? If Mary had indeed influenced Jesus... then Quasi should be cruel and sadistic.

Instead, Quasi was the best person she had ever met. Which made it so tragic that the Festival of Fools had frightened him so. That he had retreated into his tower, fearing to leave because of the outside world.

_And his master._

"Why do you keep him there, in that tower?" Esmeralda suddenly asked as the carriage rolled along the cobblestones. Frollo looked up, startled by the question.

"He would simply be reviled as a monster if he were allowed to roam free. Remember the Feast of Fools." he said icily.

"I remember... I remember you sitting there idle, allowing Quasimodo to be beaten and harmed. You had the power to stop it. The most powerful man in Paris... who simply lets his adopted son be abused by the crowd?" she said, her tone now indignant.

Frollo's eyes narrowed, and he hissed through his teeth, "A lesson needed to be learned. He disobeyed my direct orders, so he had t pay the price. Such is the way with the law, faith, and life," he said.

"A lesson needed to be learned? Why not teach the people that Quasimodo is not a monster, but a man, and a good one at that?" she said, crossing her arms.

Then she realized something. "But that would probably be too shameful for your damned pride wouldn't it? Defending the hunchback, accepting and presenting him as your son. That would just be too much!"

All of her words had struck true. Each of them was a new barb that buried itself in Frollo's skin. He contained his anger and indignation for now, but he could feel himself becoming defensive, cornered. "Is that what you want to hear? That I cannot bear to look at the boy for all his hideous-ness? That I lock him away because I am too ashamed to have been saddled with him? That the only reason I raise him is to pay for my sins against his mother?" he blurted out.

But the last sentence struck Esmeralda. "What?" she said, her mouth dropping open. "Nothing," Frollo said quickly, instantly regretting he had said anything. "What happened to Quasi's mother?" she said, her voice more urgent. "It does not concern you."

"Whatever concerns my friend does indeed concern me!" she said, her eyes flashing in anger.

The carriage stopped and Frollo could not get out of the now too-small space fast enough. Esmeralda pursued him. "Put your cloak on!" he hissed, yanking her hood up. She ignored him and followed him into the house, where he closed the large doors with a resounding boom. "Answer the question Frollo!" she said.

He turned around, his robes whipping around him. "Don't use that tone with me!" he said. "Fine. Minister Frollo, answer my question, please," she said bitterly. He stood and glared at the gypsy for a moment his ragged breaths the only sound between them.

"Quasimodo's mother was a gypsy. Where she came from, I don't know. What _flea bitten_ caravan she traveled with, I don't know. All I know is she was arrested down by the docks. She ran from me carrying a bundle-I thought it was stolen goods. I did what my duty commanded me to do," he said, his voice cold, resounding.

Esmeralda gasped, automatically guessing what came next. "You... you killed her!" she whispered, outraged.

"It was an accident! I do not need to explain my actions to _you_ of all people!" he said darkly, turning away.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't tell Quasi what you have told me."

He grabbed Esmeralda's arm, eliciting a cry from her lips. "If you do I will never let you out of this house. Quasimodo must never know," he said, his voice low and sinister. Esmeralda yanked her arm away, rubbing where Frollo had probably bruised her.

The young woman looked into the dark eyes of her opponent, her face was twisted with rage... but also grief. "You are a coward, Judge Frollo," she said, her voice quiet but steady. She walked away yet again, and Frollo had no words to call after her

xxx

Frollo stood outside of Esmeralda's room, unable to move.

She had retreated into her room yet again. He was infuriated. How dare she address him in such a way! How could she possibly know what dilemmas he went through? It had been his duty to take in the gypsies. He simply had been following his own orders. Any tragedy that had befallen the young gypsy mother was simply collateral damage.

And yet, her words... like many of the words she had spoken to him lately...had struck him to his core. Never before had a person attacked all his mental defenses at once like she. Each time, her words were bitter, fiery, burning... yet also had the truth hidden within them. _"Sadist, monster, demon!"_ He could clearly remember her cries, her pointed insults which she had flung at him so easily.

With that thought he urged himself on, and opened Esmeralda's door with a crash. She jumped up from her seat.

"Yes, I am ashamed of being seen with Quasimodo. I keep him in that tower because my own sinful pride cannot be harmed in the eyes of the common folk," he started, his words quick and sharp.

He paused then continued, "My duty as Judge requires me to uphold the law which I shall do so until my time as minister is finished." Then, Esmeralda watched as his face changed from stony to soft.

"But... I cannot claim infallibility," he said, his words growing slower, more full of shame. "The death of the hunchback's mother was not my intention. I should have done things differently, as you so _painstakingly_ point out to me," his face hardened again.

"Esmeralda... I have my own duty to uphold to the people. Much like you to your gypsies in staying here with me. You may judge me in your own heart. But know that what I do... and what I've done... at least in the _public_ arena, is because of my duty."

Esmeralda did not respond. "Supper will be served momentarily." He said curtly.

When he left, Esmeralda contemplated his words. It was not an apology. That was for sure. But, this admittance of fallibility? That was novel.

_"I have my own duty to uphold to the people,"_ So did she. Not just by staying with him.

Esmeralda's eyes flickered over to mattress where her clothes and disguise lay stashed away. She remembered Father Maurice's words.

A new determination surged within Esmeralda. Well, if Claude Frollo had his duties to uphold, then she should return the favor.

xxx

Esmeralda waited, listening intently to Frollo's muffled voice in the room next door.. Once his prayers had died down, she undid the sheets and began to dress.

She slipped her costume from underneath her bed and placed it on her body. After being contained in corsets and uncomfortable dresses Frollo made her wear, the tunic was a sigh of relief.

She tied up her hair, then placed on her mask. She picked the lock of her window, and slipped out, walking out into the winter air.

She looked up at the star filled sky, and smiled.

She ran silently across Frollo's rooftop, and jumped over the wall which separated the courtyard from the streets. She then ran, rooftop to rooftop, feeling a thrill of joy as she hurled her body through the night air.

Esmeralda found her usually place and waited, watching the streets below her.

"Help!" Someone screamed. With acrobatic dexterity, Esmeralda flipped and danced rooftop to rooftop until she found where the cry had come from. A young woman had been cornered by one of the more lustful soldiers.

Esmeralda jumped to the street, landing feet away from the man. Startled, he turned around, brandishing a knife. Before he could speak, she had kicked him in the face, sending him down. "Run!" she cried out to the frightened girl, who scrambled to her feet. "Thank you!" the maiden whispered.

"Fuck!" the soldier cursed, holding his bleeding nose. With one last kick, Esmeralda sent the man sprawling on the ground unable to get to his feet.

With a smile of satisfaction, Esmeralda climbed back up to the roof, looking for the next outcast.

xxx

Please review! Thanks for reading! -Cgal


	17. Chapter 17

"I swear, I wasn't doin' anything wrong!"

Frollo pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to the soldier's complaint. It was the fifth time today someone had come to him to report a crime against the 'mysterious masked man' who had re-appeared. "I assure you, the perpetrator of these crimes will be caught. Now, could you please do me a courtesy, and _get out_ of my study!" he said, entirely annoyed. The soldier shrank in fear, and retreated.

It had been a long, frustrating day. It seemed each person who came in was bearing the same bad news. _For the love of God, I am trying to run a city!_ Frollo thought, slamming the drawer of his desk.

"Judge Claude Frollo..." a soldier came in, saluting the irascible Frollo

"Can't you see that I have my work to do? You impudent brute, stop sending people in!" Frollo said darkly.

"No-I-I-I just-"

"What is it boy, spit it out!" he exclaimed bitterly.

"I see that my presence is not welcome," said a high reedy voice from out the door. Frollo watched as a middle aged slender man strode into his office. He wore the colors of the crown, and Frollo instantly knew the man was in fact, a representative from the high crown himself. Embarrassed, Frollo stood up, sending the soldier out. "I apologize sir. I hope I did not cause any insult on your part." He said, now anxious about his earlier outburst.

"Ah, Judge Claude Frollo. Your reputation certainly precedes you. I am sure no disrespect was intended," he said, pursing his lips.

Frollo shut the door, and then bowed his head in respect to the man. "To what do I owe this great honor?" he said.

"No need for ceremony. I come with a message. Clement Henson de Chagny," he said outstretching his hand. "And what is this message?" Frollo replied, not making an attempt to shake it.

"It is regarding the... moral corruption found in your district."

Judge Frollo's eyes narrowed. "Sire, I am doing whatever is possible to quell any rabble which is occurring."

"Oh no, Minister, I am not implying any degradation of your ability. In fact, I am referring to your own reports which you sent to the crown, last year, about the increase in...well, _sin_. Most alarming."

Frollo folded his arms, suddenly remembering the papers. "Why refer to them now?" he said, suspicious. "The crown has organized a council, which will meet in the Palais de la Cite. There, we will discuss taking action against these... abominations. Gypsies."

Frollo felt startled. "Are gypsies the only problem?" he asked. "My dear judge, I am going by your report. Such ghastly behavior! I swear, the moment they came into our district, was the very moment our Lord sent the Plague," Clement said.

"Yes, of course," he said, his words strangely hollow sounding. "The meeting will occur the 17th of April. I trust that you will be able to attend," Clement said smoothly.

"Of course," he repeated. "Well then, I am glad this is all clarified," Clement concluded. The man left the room, leaving Frollo alone in his study.

Frollo sat for a moment, his mind recollecting the papers he had submitted to His Majesty. How long ago was that? A year, maybe two.

He wondered if he would have written those papers now, after succumbing to the charms of Esmeralda.

His mind wandered off, mulling over his conflicted thoughts. Was he going soft? Frollo had for years was repulsed by the despicable heathen ways of the gypsies. And yet, he had spared one of them, who now hung on a scaffold down in the dungeons below.

Tobias had been within the prison for three weeks now. For those past weeks, the judge had _fed_ the criminal, denying the sinner his punishment.

Frollo called in a soldier. "Bring in the gypsy from cell 11," he ordered sternly. Silently, the soldier left from the room.

Some time later, two men brought up the gypsy, in chains. They dropped him to the ground, their faces filled with disgust.

In an instant, the judge saw his visage reflected on the faces of the soldiers, loathing, haughty expressions which Frollo recognized as his own. They had been taught to fight by the academy; Frollo had taught them to show no mercy.

"Out," Frollo said. The two soldiers quickly left, closing the door.

Tobias looked up at the judge, his expression bewildered.

Frollo walked towards the man, his arms crossed in front of him. A multitude of voices rang in his head, creating a cacophonous racket within his mind. Clement's sneering face, his own father's booming lectures. And finally, Esmeralda's husky, beautiful words.

"You have now been pardoned, Tobias. The soldiers shall come and take you out of the Palace of Justice, and you can return home, whatever gypsy nest that may be. But mark my words, if you are ever caught again, I shall not be as forgiving," he said sternly. The gypsy's eyes widened. "But... how...?"

"If you ask me again, I shall reconsider," he said sharply. He could barely justify his actions to himself, let alone to a gypsy who should keep his mouth shut.

Tobias's mouth closed. From his pocket, Frollo took the master set of keys, and unlocked the man's chains. Tobias rose, rubbing his chafed wrists and ankles.

"Th-"

"Do not dare thank me, gypsy. I would just as soon have you beheaded as freed," he said. But the venomous words felt different. They had suddenly lost their meaning to the judge. Could he have really killed this man? After all that had happened?

Frollo gritted his teeth. "Get up damn it," he ordered. Tobias rose, his dark eyes shining. Frollo felt a wave of... failure crash over him. Why was he setting this man free? Had the witch's spell really had him so firmly held in his grasp?

A last thought crashed down upon him. "When you are free, each Saturday evening, before the bells strike 12, lead your elderly to Rue de Elysier. Do not ask why. Do not tell anyone else why."

Tobias nodded, still completely baffled. Frollo turned from him. "Go now, and say you have the judge's pardon. Your sentence has been served. Do not tell them anything more. Are we clear?" he said, his low voice resonating off the walls.

"Yes," Tobias said, his voice weak. "Get out of my sight," Frollo said.

Tobias exited into the hall, his knees shaking. A free man. Frollo had made a gypsy, a thief, a _sinner_... a free man.

A vehement anger boiled within himself. When did he become so _weak_?!

Frollo sat at his desk, pressing his fingers to his temples. "God have mercy on me," he murmured.

He, Judge Claude Frollo, had lusted for a pagan, broken his celibacy, and had liberated a guilty sinner. The irony and hypocrisy of it all was enough to evoke a bitter laugh from the minister.

Frollo rose from his seat, trying to shake off the thoughts that now poisoned his mind.

Frollo then left the Palace of Justice, striding quickly down the halls. He needed to speak to his servants, and arrange for a rider to set his plan in motion...

xxx

Esmeralda now sat across from Frollo. He had stormed into the room, furious. Esmeralda rose an eyebrow as the minister sat at the table, his movements filled with tension and irritation.

Frollo sighed, a mournful, rasping sound which surprised the gypsy. She watched him carefully, her eyes taking in every movement of the minister. His hands were stiff, his pale, spidery fingers clenching around his utensils in front of him. His face was occupied, an anxiety etched deep into the lines of his face.

The silence of the room pressed on her ears, from every angle. He was so quiet. By now, he would have been goading her on with hot, combative words. "Rough day in the torture room?" she said dryly.

Frollo looked up, snapping out of his thoughts. "The torture room never is a source of worry. It's the bureaucracy which is maddening," he said enigmatically. Esmeralda's eyebrows rose. Frollo caught her incredulous look.

"You may think me a monster for using such methods. But torture has proven to be very effective for my uses." Frollo said, a crooked, grim smile adorning his face.

"Effective if the person tells you what you want to hear. But... under duress, I really wonder how truthful your subjects are." She said.

For a moment, the two sat in silence, each challenging the other person. A flare of annoyance sparked within Frollo, but he ignored it, instead flashing a wry smirk. "I suppose now you will march into my office and give me legal advice."

"Oh, what could I possibly know of the law? I'm just an abominable gypsy." "Not abominable. Not you," he said, the words falling from his lips. She froze, now suspicious. _Why did I say that?_ Frollo thought.

He yet again fell silent. He could feel the gypsy's eyes upon him, studying his every movement. He caught her inquisitive look.

"So... The Chateuper wedding is happening in two weeks time," he mentioned, trying to be casual. "Is this another conversation intended to get a rise out of me?" she said, instantly feeling angered he had brought it up. "Perhaps." He said cynically.

Esmeralda crossed her arms over her chest. For a moment, she held his gaze, her green eyes narrowed. Then, her face relaxed, and her expression took a more...sorrowful countenance.

For a while, a request had burned within the gypsy, and now, she summoned her courage to ask him. "Minister Frollo..."

"You must want something, you never call me by my title," he said dryly. Esmeralda struggled to keep from rolling her eyes.

"I... I have to ask you something of you," she said, getting up. She walked over to the still seated judge, and leaned on the table, facing the fire. She inhaled.

"Phoebus de Chateupers... He is a good man and an even greater Captain." She could barely look at him in the eye. "I know that you punished him for his actions. He may have disobeyed orders, but he must still be of some use to you as a Captain. Something," she now pleaded. She loathed herself for begging with him. "Please... give him back his title. It is because of me he disobeyed his orders in the first place."

Frollo was surprised. He rose from his seat, trying to keep his face as stone. "You beg for his title?" Frollo said, shocked. First Tobias, now this?

"Yes." She said, her words feeling bitter in her mouth. "What makes you think I have any influence?" "You're a man of incredible power Frollo, I'm not stupid. Whatever you want, whatever you wish, is always done. After all, you burned an entire city to find me,"

Frollo clasped his hands behind his back. "So I did," he said darkly. He looked back up at her face. "He is marrying another woman, and yet you _still_ vouch for him?" he said, his voice now manipulative.

"Yes. As you so _painfully_ make clear to me, he will never love me. But I love him. And I am loyal and fight for those whom I love," she said through gritted teeth,

A violent and savage anger tore through the judge. He was jealous of this boy, who even when not in her presence, occupied the gypsy's mind. She thought so tenderly of the former captain.

He was envious. He wanted to make the boy pay, let Esmeralda see him as a poor, penniless man.

"What shall you do if I refuse, gypsy?" he said, his tone emotionless. Esmeralda's eyes narrowed. "I would not be the least bit surprised, given your track record," she said, her voice tired.

A low chuckle resounded within the judge. "Not the answer I expected. Where are the threats of witchcraft, the fiery rain of curses you are so prone to?" he drawled.

Esmeralda folded her arms, a playful smile on her red lips. "As little as I know of begging, I believe that begging for a man's title does not involve any of those things."

There was that word again. _Beg_. To hear the very word escape Esmeralda's lips was something close to improbable. Frollo mulled over it, his mind contemplating her actions. Why Phoebus? Of all people to sacrifice her dignity over... she chose that blonde brute of a boy! It was enough to make him grip the arms of his chair tight, so tight as his knuckles turned white.

"I suppose the tropes about the foolish damsel waiting for her shining knight are more truthful than I ever realized," he said dryly.

Esmeralda, to his surprise, did not take the bait and snap at him. "Well, what did you expect? The foolish damsel to ride off with the villain?" she said huskily.

Frollo froze. The feelings of jealousy within him suddenly felt like a betrayal of his own mind, a betrayal of the turbulence he felt within him. A tell revealing his true thoughts.

He should not feel jealous. After all, he had won. The boy was no longer a factor.

There was an implication within her words Frollo felt unsettled by. "I am the villain of your story. But I would hardly think of myself as a competitor for your affections gypsy. I am not some romantic suitor vying for your heart, witch. No matter how much you'd like to believe your spell has worked in such a way," Frollo said, forcing a simpering smile.

_ She still loves of him. Traitor!_ He thought, his poisonous thoughts clouding his mind. Suddenly he caught himself. _What am I doing?_ He thought. Its not as if the girl pledged her fealty to him. Why did he care about the useless wants of her brain? She was here. That was all the mattered.

"Cat got your tongue?" Esmeralda said playfully. Her face was one of a wry cynical nature. But her eyes; her eyes contained disappointment. She seemed unsurprised at his unwillingness to help the captain.

For some reason, Frollo felt compelled to ease her disappointment, her hopelessness. _Appeasing her would be foolish_, an inner voice told him. She'd be more inclined to believe he would cave for her over any little matter. And falling victim to Esmeralda's witchcraft was _not_ in his best interest.

Or perhaps... he would receive her loyalty. She would feel more indebted to him, less likely to disobey him.

_She would be so much happier_, he thought. Perhaps she would even smile.

He sighed. "Fine then."

Esmeralda's gaze snapped up to his. _Did he just._.."What?" she said, her voice disbelieving.

"I said it shall be done, Esmeralda." he said curtly.

He watched as her eyes widened, and a small smile spread on her lips. Its effect on him was devastating. Dear God, she looked as radiant as an angel. The irony of it all did not escape Frollo. The woman, the minx whom he had once defiled now smiled at him in gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered softly. Frollo felt his heart pang. Oh, he envied the captain. Yes indeed.

A sense of desolation and emptiness filled within the man. Phoebus probably never thought of this woman. It never crossed the captain's mind that she loved him. She was loving a thankless subject.

"It shall be done," he muttered. Esmeralda suddenly heard a new tone... of... _sadness_. She frowned. Frollo rose from his seat. "It is quite late, and I have much to do. I suggest you head to bed," he said, forcing a stiffness in his voice.

But his voice betrayed him, catching on _bed_. Esmeralda's brows knit together, detecting a new chink in his armor. Her lips parted as she contemplated his conflicted face, his sorrowful eyes. In that moment, he became human before her eyes. Not a Minister. Not a monster.

As he left, she found herself calling after him. "Cl-Frollo?" she started. The judge turned, incredulous. So many words sprouted to the tip of her tongue... But all Esmeralda could manage was, "Thank you."

xxx

Please review! Thank you so much for reading! -Cgal


	18. Chapter 18

Esmeralda wandered outside, happy to be free from the confines of her room.

Cosette sat nearby, but was less focused on watching her than sewing up a ragged pile of clothes. "I can help you!" Esmeralda called out. "No, miss. I can handle my own work," Cosette said, waving her off.

Esmeralda breathed in the fresh hair, turning her face up to sun.

"Excuse me?" Esmeralda heard a voice. A man's voice. She looked around, confused. "Excuse me, miss?" Esmeralda looked to the gate, and saw a figure standing there. Looking at Cosette, she pointed to herself and mouthed to the man, _Me?_ "Yes, miss I'm talking to you."

Esmeralda walked over to the gate, scarcely knowing what to do or say. The man was wrapped in a threadbare cloak. He was a gypsy. She frowned. He seemed familiar. She had definitely seen him before. "Tobias?" she said. "Yes... wait, you're Esmeralda!" Tobias said incredulously. "Yes. I am," she said.

"Do... do you live here?" he asked, looking up at the huge castle. What a question. "I suppose so," she said.

Tobias nodded, his eyes still fixed on the huge gothic edifice looming above them

"My friend, you'll find no generosity here. This is Minister Frollo's house," she said. What if Frollo saw him? She didn't want the poor man to be hurt. "That's why I am here. I need you to send a message to the judge," Tobias said. Esmeralda frowned. "What?"

"My message is thank you. I know he does not want to be recognized, but I know it was him," Tobias said. Esmeralda then felt as if she had been hit in the stomach. "What?!" she exclaimed.

Tobias turned to leave. "Tobias, wait." She cried out, reaching her arm through the gate, touching his arm. The man stopped, turning back to her. "Thank him for what?" she said.

"It's not really my business to tell."

"Oh come on, you can trust me," she said, flashing her most charming smile. It must have worked, since Tobias instantly said, "I know it was Frollo who has been setting out food near Rue de Elysier, for the beggars. He told me specifically to come there each Sunday at eight. I know its him." He paused, and then went on. "Also, thank him for freeing me. I...I know I could have rotted in that cell for a good long while had he not pardoned me."

Each word bowled Esmeralda over. "I...I will make sure he gets the message," she replied.

"I must be leaving. Thank you!" Tobias said as he walked away. Esmeralda stared after him, her mouth gaping open. Frollo... was charitable? It was such a contrary idea that she could scarcely believe it.

Stunned, Esmeralda walked back over to Cosette, as if in a dream like state.

xxx

Dinner that night started well enough. Esmeralda stared at the judge all the while, knowing she had to bring up Tobias's message. However, she scarcely knew what to say. Looking at his severe face, it was hard to imagine that he had any mercy within him. _He did help Phoebus,_ a small voice in her head said. _Sure, after he beat me and took advantage of my body, _another voice added.

"You're rather quiet. It's quite a change. What is it, cat got your tongue?" Frollo said dryly. Esmeralda looked up. Frollo noticed a look of bafflement on her face. "Well, gypsy, spit it out!"

"Tobias came with a message to you," she blurted out. Frollo's eyes narrowed. "What?!" he said. "Tobias. Does the name ring any bells?" she said.

Frollo said nothing. "He told me to thank you for helping him and the other beggars at Rue de Elysier. And for freeing him," she said, her voice incredulous. Frollo pursed his lips. That loudmouth! He should have known Tobias would talk. Damn it, what would happen if the Crown heard news that he was feeding heathens?

"He mentioned you by name. Unless there's another Judge Frollo in Paris," she said. Frollo still remained quiet. Esmeralda rose from her chair and crossed to Frollo, folding her arms. "Why so quiet Frollo?" she asked. Frollo shot a glare at her. "What are you planning? Are you buying them off? Did you want more information from them? You already know where the Court of Miracles is," she said accusingly.

Hearing her repeat his lie sent a pang of guilt through him. Frollo stared up at her. "Well, what is it? What sort of plot against them are you planning?!" she exclaimed, her eyes narrowing.

"Hold your tongue gypsy!" he said, finally lurching up from his seat. She still remained where she was, her face defiant. "Do you want to know what sort of cruel plot I have hatched for those beggars? Well, you may be surprised to learn there is no plot. No intrigue, no schemes. Nothing," he said forcefully.

Esmeralda stared up at him for a moment. Usually, she would doubt if anything he said was true. But the passionate outcry she had witnessed convinced her that he indeed was truthful. He indeed was honest.

Esmeralda's mouth fell open, and her eyes grew wide. "You... you're actually telling the truth," she said breathless. "Don't sound so shocked," he said dryly.

Esmeralda then realized that he had indeed given food to the beggars because of charity. "I did not take you for a charitable man, Frollo," she said, baffled. "I'm not," he muttered.

"But you are. My only qualm is that you seem ashamed of it," she said, her eyebrows knitting together. Frollo's eyes narrowed. "Gypsy... I am going against my duty, my faith, my entire _morality_ to feed those mangy gypsies. Don't expect me to be too thrilled at the prospect."

"What could possibly be wrong with helping the innocent?" she asked, outraged. How could he take something so innocent and make it sound blasphemous?

"Gypsy... there was a time when I was taught that your people were spawned from the devil. I was taught to revile, cast off, and eliminate gypsies." His face changed to one of confliction. "I was taught that gypsies were subhuman followers of Satan. And now, I have gone against that vow. My father is probably rolling in his grave," he said.

Esmeralda's eyes took in the severe judge's face. And for a brief moment, she pitied the man. "Your father and I probably wouldn't get along," she said.

"'Get along' is an understatement. He would be disgusted I am speaking with you at this very moment. I have disappointed him greatly." he said.

In that moment, Esmeralda saw a deep turmoil that had been brewing in the judge since she had first been captured. A conflict so deep, it had driven him to madness. And in that moment... he was human.

"Quite frankly... your father sounds like a twisted, bigoted bastard. My only question I have now, is whether or not the son has followed the father," she observed.

"Don't you dare insult my father, witch! He was, and always shall be, a good holy man," he said his voice furious. Esmeralda did not shrink back however, looking into the eyes of her captor.

"I don't care what you're father may have said. What you did... was more just than any of your judicial career," Esmeralda said.

Frollo was furious. How dare she judge his family? His work? But as he looked down at the young woman, at her upturned face, he was aware that Esmeralda... his prisoner... had just complimented him. She had insulted him... but it was a compliment nonetheless.

"So Frollo. What am I to you? A demoness? A witch? Or simply a 'mangy gypsy'?" she said, her tone a little lighter, but still serious.

Frollo's mouth opened, but no words came out. The voice of his father rang in his ears. His own cries that she had been a witch came back to him as well.

Looking at her beautiful face he replied, "You are no demon."  
Esmeralda's eyes widened. "Well, that's unexpected," she commented. Frollo cast a sidelong glance at her. Needing to steady himself, he reached onto the table and grabbed his goblet of wine and drank deeply. "Why this change? Before you were making quite sure I knew I was the devil," she said.

Frollo shook his head. "Perhaps you don't know everything as you purport yourself to," he said pointedly. "Oh another jab. I swear, we can never have a conversation without some sort of conflict," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well... that's what we do. Oil and water. Always combatting each other. Never becoming one," he said. The words in a way made him feel sorrowful.

Esmeralda raised an eyebrow. "That's a very artistic way of saying you think I'm a witch, and I think you're a bastard," she said bluntly.

Frollo tried to stifle a laugh, but a low chuckle escaped him. "Really? You're laughing? I'm surprised. " she said putting her hands on her hips. "I can laugh whenever I please Esmeralda," he said.

"Yes, I'm fully aware you're capable of that. But... it's still kind of alarming. Especially coming from a man who never smiles."

"I leave the smiles to you. My grin is not one to be admired." He said.

"I wouldn't know, I've never seen it," Esmeralda said tauntingly. Then she thought about it. "Well, I've seen you smile. But I don't count those. Those are more garish intimidating faces than anything else," she said.

"Intimidating faces?" he said wryly.

"I think you would smile if your horse got trampled!" she said.

"Contrary to popular belief, I actually do care for my horse."

"The way you ride that thing suggests otherwise." She said.

"Snowball is well fed and is sleeping quite soundly in the stables tonight. That says otherwise," he retorted.

All of a sudden, Esmeralda clapped a hand to her mouth, and shoulders began to shake up and down. "What's wrong?" he said frowning.

"Your horse's name... is _Snowball_?!" she choked out. Esmeralda then started laughing, the sound rich and throaty. The gypsy was shaking with laughter. Frollo folded his arms, restraining himself from rolling his eyes. "Yes." He said.

"What... why?!" she said, her voice still breathless from laughing. Frollo then said, "I thought it was ironic because of his black coat. Really, it was a lapse in judgement and should never have occurred," he said.

"Judge Claude Frollo has a sense of humor." Esmeralda said, shaking her head.

For the rest of dinner, the two spoke, Esmeralda's good humor becoming infectious. Frollo found himself smiling.

And for the first time in a long time... Esmeralda felt lighthearted.

xxx

They spoke for hours, until the serving maids came in to clear dinner. "Is it really so late?" Frollo said, frowning. Esmeralda saw the disappointment bloom on his face. "Do not fret, Frollo. You'll see me bright and early tomorrow," she replied, rising from her chair.

"I was not fretting. No need for dramatics," Frollo said, recollecting his own composure. However, it was too late: Esmeralda had seen his icy deadpan dissolve into laughter only a short time before. "Your secret is safe with me, judge," she murmured, and a ravishing smile appeared on her face. Frollo nearly gasped, it unnerved him so.

Esmeralda turned to leave. "Good night," he murmured, his voice so much more gentle than she had ever heard it before. Esmeralda looked over her shoulder, and nodded once.

As she walked back to her room, she smiled to herself. Frollo the charitable. Frollo the humorous. She didn't know which was more surprising.

xxx

Thanks so much for reading! Leave reviews! -Cgal


	19. Chapter 19

Frollo sat in the Palace of Justice yet again, waiting for the boorish boy to arrive. He tried to busy himself, but each time he closed his eyes, Esmeralda's tender smile appeared before him. Her laughs from the night before pealed in his ears, more beautiful than the purest of bells.

He claimed to himself it was all a political ploy. Promoting the captain would cause Esmeralda to stop being so belligerent, would win over her loyalty.

But as he thought back on her beautiful smiles, her joyous face... it was hard to convince himself that all of this... everything... was not simply for her own happiness.

A voice interrupted his thoughts."Minister, Phoebus de Chateupers is here."

"Send him in," he said glumly.

Phoebus entered the room, his gold armor now replaced with dull silver. His blonde haired head bowed to Frollo. "Sir, you summoned me?" he asked.

Frollo could barely hide his annoyance for the man. He got up from his seat and crossed over to him. "Phoebus de Chateupers, I have decided to restore your title as captain of the guard. You have been punished enough for you insubordination. But know this," he walked closer, glaring at Phoebus. "If you disobey a direct order again, it shall be your _head_, not your title which is removed. Are we clear?"

Phoebus looked up at him, a doltish look on his face. The young man tried to disguise his surprise. "Sir... I ... we are clear." He concluded.

Frollo placed on of his hands on the boy's shoulders, his fingers itching to dig into his skin and rip it off. "We are agreed then. Go now, you must have much preparations to make for your wedding. Your armor and orders will be sent to your abode."

"Thank you sir." _Don't thank me, thank the gypsy you cast aside_, Frollo thought, unable to stop glaring at the boy. Phoebus turned to go, but he then turned back again, unable to assuage his curiosity. "Sir... If I may ask, why this change of heart?"

"I was made a convincing argument by a former subordinate of yours," Frollo lied.

Phoebus turned to leave, but before he could, Frollo called after him. "You never ask about her."

"I'm sorry?" Phoebus asked, even more confused.

"You never ask about her. The gypsy." The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. Phoebus frowned. "You told me she had left the city," he said crossing his arms over his chest.

"I did. But you never asked about her initially. Rather odd that when my men trapped you in the dungeon, you found it necessary to ask about that stallion, Achilles, but not her. If I had not told you, I doubt you would have known her fate," Frollo said smoothly, his cold, calculating eyes on the soldier.

"I assumed she was safe."

"And she is safe Captain," Frollo lied smoothly.

"Did you... care for that witch? Did she ensnare you in her trap?" the judge continued, his manipulative eyes never leaving the captain's face. Phoebus hesitated. "Answer the question."

"Of course I cared for her. She was a wonderful girl," he said quickly.

"Did you love her?" Frollo asked, his control on his own emotions slipping.

Phoebus frowned, hearing a catch in the minister's voice. "What does it matter now?"

"That was not an answer. If you are to be my Captain, you will need to be honest with your superiors." Frollo said, trying to appear as imperious as he could. Phoebus was silent for a moment, debating what to say. His job, his title, were so close to being his. "I did not love her," he said honestly.

Frollo could hear no trace of falsehood in the captain's voice. "Well, at least you knew better than to fall for that... harlot," he said, the words feeling false in his mouth. "You may leave, _Captain_."

Phoebus left, suspicious of the minister's actions. Frollo sat back down at his desk, feeling pleased with himself. The soldier was not a threat. He wouldn't come after her. But, as he thought of Esmeralda's sweet smiles, the sadness that haunted her face, Frollo was struck with pity for the woman. She was a fool in love.

He sighed, and went back to his work.

xxx

Esmeralda wandered around Frollo's home, her bare feet padding quietly on the stone floors. Bored of staying in her room, the gypsy had decided to explore the twisting halls. Most of the rooms were locked. Some were open, but once opened, Esmeralda only found dusty furniture covered in dusty sheets.

One room however, caught her eye. Frollo's study. Esmeralda had not yet decided to venture in there, feeling it was too obtrusive.

_Oh come on, he's not going to find out! What are you, afraid?_ She thought. Esmeralda checked right, then left, and saw no servants. She then opened the door to Frollo's study, her curiosity overwhelming her.

The room only contained bookshelves and a desk. Not surprisingly, the desk was neat, with no trace of loose parchment. Esmeralda turned to the bookshelf, her eyes taking in the multiple books that were jammed in. Most were dusty though. Esmeralda reached for a red leather bound book, then blew off the dust.

Out of curiosity, she opened it, thumbing through the pages. It was a dense book filled with text. Not a bible though. There was no cross on the cover. She tried to look for pictures, but there were none.

_"What do you think you're doing?!"_ Esmeralda jumped, Frollo's deep and imposing voice rattling her. She looked up and saw the judge, chaperon atop his head, face livid with rage. Frollo strode over and yanked the book out of her hands. "Let me let you in on a secret. Privacy is an ideal that is most valued. I would appreciate it if you followed it, prying gypsy!" he hissed.

Esmeralda remained calm. "Hey, what can I do? I'm bored, and most of the rooms are empty anyway. It's not like I can read anything in here anyway," she said, shrugging.

Frollo's frown softened. "What?"

"I can't read. Whatever foul books you want to keep hidden are going to stay hidden," she said, miming locking her lips and throwing away the key.

Frollo was taken aback by the sudden admittance. It made perfect sense that she wasn't able to read. But ... it also didn't make sense. She seemed so witty, so intelligent. The fact she wasn't able to read seemed out of the question. "You can read nothing at all?" he asked.

Esmeralda was beginning to feel embarrassed. "Come now, when could I possibly learn how to read? Between getting food for my caravan and performing, I barely have time to sleep, let alone learn. My education was in practicality," she claimed.

Frollo looked down at the book. It was an old one, from his youth, Alchemy. "Would you ever want to learn?" Frollo asked. Esmeralda frowned. "How exactly would I have been able to learn? Unlike the illustrious Tirechappes, my family has no money for a tutor."

"I can teach you," was his rebuttal.

Esmeralda crossed her arms. "What, so you can mock my ignorance of higher education even more?"

"No. I see that you have nothing better to do, so you might as well get some use out of me," he replied.

A small smirk touched Esmeralda's face. _Little does he know I have quite a bit to do at night,_ she thought mischievously. "I see what you're scheme is. You want to try and reform me. Convert this sinner to a holy one," she said teasingly.

"I doubt that any conversion would convince you to change whatever is in your head, Esmeralda," he said, a wry smirk appearing on his lips.

"There's no harm in playing along I suppose. But if you start trying to baptize me, I will make sure my existence around here is as prying as it could be," she said. "Well then, we have a deal." he said.

"Shall we shake on it, or is that privilege only allowed men in your society?" she said dryly.

"I think, my dear, I can make an exception since you are not of my society." He said, extending a hand. Esmeralda hesitated... but then grasped his pale one, looking up into his eyes. "Deal," she said. "Deal." He concluded.

It was the first time she had touched him willingly. And to feel her soft hand upon his... it was a fragile, pure moment that Frollo decided he liked quite a bit.

He opened the alchemy book, starting at chapter one. "First we shall learn of the alphabet..."

xxx

Thanks for reading! Please review! -Cgal


	20. Chapter 20

Frollo, to her surprise, was a patient teacher. Each afternoon, he would invite her into his study, and place a book in front of her. His long fingers would thumb through the pages, pointing at different words. "I'm not a fast learner," she would say as she struggled to sound out the words. "You are progressing as well as you are capable of," he replied, his voice authoritative, yet understanding.

More and more, Esmeralda began to understand the once alien texts that were in front of her. "Al- ch-emy," she said. "The ch here sometimes becomes a hard k sound," he corrected. Esmeralda nodded, and then said, "Alchemy."

"Good." He said, another smile adorning his face. Esmeralda's heart leapt at the sight of one of those rare, gentler grins. She shook off the strange feeling.

"Now, its your turn. Tell me what alchemy means, and why it's lying around in your library," she said.

Frollo shot her a withering look. "Come on Frollo. Humor me," she said. She flashed him such a charming smile he was unable to resist.

"Alchemy, gypsy, is the false art of changing ordinary metals into gold," he said.

"Hmmmm... Now why would a man like you require that particular set of skills?" she said tauntingly.

"I did not. What makes you believe that I would ever believe in such drivel?" "The book is yours is it not?" she said, her eyes becoming much more calculating.

"Yes. But only because I must educate myself to _avoid_ such an unholy art," he said.

"Books are quite expensive are they not? Why not buy another bible with the money you used on that?" Esmeralda said, a crafty look in her eyes.

She was cunning. Frollo raised an eyebrow, slightly embarrassed he had thought she would fall for his lie. She had proven herself too intelligent for that sort of assumption. "Frollo, I'm waiting," she said teasingly.

"Fine. As a young man... long ago, I grew curious of that unnatural science. I tried my hand at it."

Esmeralda smirked. "The holy Frollo, the pious, god-fearing man... trying to play God and make gold," she said. "Shameful, isn't it?" he said, his deep voice filled with an uncharacteristic humor.

Esmeralda folded her arms, and picked up the said book. "Somehow, I think it makes sense, given what you've become."

"And what is it I've become?" he said coolly.

"A man of immeasurable wealth. A man of immeasurable powers, which he wields for his own purpose," she said. Underneath her cool surface, Frollo could detect a biting, sharp admonishment. "So... I play God?" he said.

"Not a God I would want to cross," she said, a knowing smile on her lips.

_My God, what a minx_, he thought. He should condemn her as blasphemous. But instead, he played along. "A God should have throngs of worshippers, should he not? The citizens of Paris may respect me. But they do not worship."  
"But some may say that fear can be worship. Don't you fear the retribution of your God? Doesn't that rule most of your life?" she asked.

"I do believe we've established I have far left the eyes of God Esmeralda," he reminded her, keeping his voice steady.

"So... what do you fear now?" she asked.

A million thoughts bubbled up in Frollo's mind.

"Witch, I fear you most of all. With your cunning spells and trickery," he said, a grim smile on his face.

Taken aback, Esmeralda tried to keep her wits. "You fear a lowly gypsy?"

"Oh, but you don't understand. You have done what most people have not even dreamt of doing. You have unhinged and sullied the pious and iron-willed judge minister of Paris," he said.

"It's my fault you are weak? Somehow, I don't buy that crap," she said.

"Profanity is not appreciated Esmeralda," he reacted sharply.

"Sorry Father Frollo," she said sarcastically.

Esmeralda thought she saw the judge flinch at the title, a momentary weakness in his armor. However, the man continued, "It may not be your fault that I am weak. But... you alone had the power to break whatever will I had left," he said.

"Should I be honored or frightened by this?" she asked.

"Whichever one most suits you, Esmeralda," he said.

xxx

That night, after Esmeralda had finished eating dinner, Frollo rose from his seat. "Early night, judge?" she said.

"I have matters to attend to in Paris," he stated. To his surprise, he saw a disappointed look on her face. He shot her an inquisitive look. Esmeralda suddenly felt herself blush.

Dear God, what was wrong with her? She should be glad he was going!

Frollo saw blood flush her cheeks red, and his eyes narrowed. A smirk appeared on his face. "What?!" she exclaimed, feeling her face flush hotly. "Oh nothing. But don't fret gypsy. I shall be back tomorrow morning."

"I wasn't fretting!" she protested. And then, she realized she had used the exact words on him. Needing to distract herself, she then said, "Where is it you're going?" she said quickly.

Still smiling, Frollo said, "The soldiers have been unable to bring in the vigilante. I suspect ineptitude among them, so I shall be monitoring their activities from now on. Until this bandit is found, I'll patrol the streets."

Esmeralda's heart sunk with a thud in her chest. "Oh?" she said, unable to say anything else.

Intrigued by her flustered nature, Frollo decided to be... unexpected. He walked over to Esmeralda, his walk as lithe and menacing as a jungle panther. She was still in her seat.

Careful not to frighten her, Frollo took her hand and placed a light kiss on it, a devious spark in his eyes. "Until tomorrow, witch," he said, his deep voice sending chills down her spine.

If it was possible, Esmeralda blushed even more. To see the unflappable, passionate Esmeralda look so... unsure was refreshing. Frollo fixed his gaze on her flushed face, her widened eyes.

Esmeralda attempted to regain her composure. "What makes you think you'll be able to nab him?" she said, reverting back to her usual, cynical tone. She snatched her hand back, her other palm smoothing the back of her hand that still tingled from his lips brushing against her skin.

Frollo drew back from her, still smiling. "He's no more skilled than any other man. It should be easy to lure him into our trap," he said.

Esmeralda felt a brief twinge of fear. "Who could outwit you?" she said. However, Frollo heard an edge of sarcasm in her voice. He leaned over her. "Is that a challenge, my witch?" he said, his dark eyes flashing mischievously

Meanwhile, Esmeralda's thoughts were buzzing, working over his words. What sort of trap did the minister have planned for her? She tried to keep her face composed. He couldn't see her look anxious; that would be too much of a giveaway.

But, feeling his eyes devour her face, feeling his silken voice caress her ears... it was hard to not respond, and her heart pounded wildly out of fear... and a new, unnameable emotion.

Aware of the passing time, Frollo turned to leave. Watching his retreating back, Esmeralda felt the words spring forth from her, brought on by a nagging thought. "Why arrest him when he's just helping people?" she blurted out.

Frollo turned. His eyebrow rose. Her eyes were not staring accusingly at him though. Instead, there was only an incredulous, inquisitive look in her eyes. "We can debate ethics tomorrow, gypsy," he said, and then he walked out. However, her words rang in his head, as they always had.

xxx

Esmeralda shut the door, and paced impatiently around her room. If she snuck out now... she risked Frollo coming home to her empty room. She had no idea how the minister would react. _Probably badly_, she thought wryly.

She turned to the window, her eyes peering outside the walls. If she didn't leave, how many people would suffer?

_"I have my own duty to uphold to the people,"_

__She had to go.

Esmeralda took off her nightgown and began to bind her breasts down with linen. She pulled on her tunic, her breeches, then finally, her mask. She tied her cloak around her.

She caught sight of her reflection in the vanity mirror. She was a shadow. A ghost of Paris. A silent fallen angel.

Esmeralda smirked to herself, and opened the window, and leapt into the night.

xxx

Frollo rode Snowball through the streets, legions of soldiers marching behind him. He rode until he met with the Captain, astride his white steed.

Instant annoyance filled the judge at the sight of Phoebus. He stifled a wave of absolute disdain as he rode alongside the gold plated buffoon.

"Minister," Phoebus said, nodding.

"Captain."

"The soldiers who reported seeing the masked man say he is pretty inconsistent. There doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason as to where he goes, where he's going to be. What are your orders?" Phoebus said, a lifetime of following orders helping keep his voice even.

"Set a perimeter with your men, then work your way inward. I will be riding a grid. Do not disappoint me, Captain. It would be in your best interest to find him tonight." Frollo said icily.

Phoebus nodded, then called out his orders to the men. Frollo's cold eyes surveyed as dozens of silver clad men marched out, forming several groups. "Move it," Frollo barked out, and the men marched faster, until they were out of Frollo's sight.

The judge mentally noted his surroundings, mechanically running through his route in his head. He spurred his horse forward, riding down the empty streets. His eyes scanned over the streets, looking, searching for the mysterious figure.

Little did he know, Esmeralda looked down on his head, staring down at him form one of the roofs. She lay flat, barely moving a muscle. She waited for the hoofbeats to fade away down another street.

She then began to move, running carefully from rooftop to rooftop, her blood roaring in her ears. Damn it. She almost was seen there! _I have to be more careful!_ she thought, crouching on one of the roofs.

Esmeralda crept from rooftop to rooftop, her eyes scanning the streets below. True, with more guards roaming the streets, it was less likely for people to be attacked. But one couldn't be too sure, especially in Paris.

As if to punctuate her thoughts, she heard a cry ring out into the night. Esmeralda grabbed her knife and ran towards the scream.

Frollo heard a cry, and kicked his steed. The black horse vaulted forward, hurtling down into the more seedy area of Paris.

Finally, the judge reached the victim of the scream. A young woman cowered against a wall as a shabbily dressed man staggered away, blood gushing from his broken nose.

Frollo also detected a third figure. His cloak hood was up, and he faced the young woman. His black eyes narrowed, instantly knowing this man to be the vigilante.

However, Frollo did not move just yet. The bandit spoke in a hushed tone to the young woman, and she nodded, her face relieved and grateful. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice weak.

Esmeralda turned, and saw Frollo standing atop his steed staring at her from the street. Esmeralda locked eyes with the judge. She stifled a gasp, feeling as if she were punched in the stomach. She waited for him to charge, but he remained still. Her chest throbbed, her hands quivered at her sides.

Not breaking eye contact, she held out her hand, containing the drunk's weapon. IT shook a little, betraying her weakness. Esmeralda sent the knife clattering to the street.

Finally, Frollo forced himself to move, snapping the reins of the horse. Esmeralda ran, jumping first onto a stack of crates, then the first story ledge, until she reached the second story ledge. She pulled herself onto the roof and ran, her heart thundering furiously within her.

Frollo cursed under his breath as he saw the bandit run swiftly away. Why didn't he move before? Damnation!

Frollo finally looked down at the girl who remained inert. She had fallen to the ground, and her wide, brown eyes stared up at the menacing judge. Frollo spoke sharply to her. "Did he hurt you?"

The girl stammered. "N-no, the cloaked man rescued me before anything could happen!"

"I wasn't speaking of the drunk, I was speaking of the vigilante! Did he hurt you?" Frollo said.  
"No!" the girl gasped. "He...he saved me!" she repeated.

Frollo stared off into the night and saw the shadowy form disappear, contemplating what had just occurred.

xxx

Thanks for reading! Please review! -Cgal


	21. Chapter 21

Esmeralda groaned as she was hastily awoken from her slumber by Cosette. She buried her face in the pillows. "Miss, its morning."

Esmeralda grunted in response.

She soon sat at the breakfast table, and looked up into the minister's weary eyes. In a way, she felt a tad bit guilty. "Long night?" she said.

Frollo looked up, his dark eyes seeming to grow even darker surrounded by dark circles. An icy glare was his only response to her question.

Esmeralda stifled a laugh, but Frollo caught the slight curve of her lips. "Woman, you are downright insolent at times," he said, rubbing his temples with his fingers. His dry tone brought another mocking smile to her lips. It was by her doing that he was exhausted though; perhaps she shouldn't be as hard on him?

_Oh hell no, I'm enjoying this,_ she thought mischievously.

Esmeralda was weary herself, but she disguised it better than the minister. With this thought she rose from her chair and walked over to the minister, arms crossed over her chest.

Frollo raised an eyebrow, but looked away, a headache pounding against the inside of his skull. Damn it, he should have caught the vigilante last night! How the hell had he let him slip away?

Esmeralda saw a look of pain cross his features. "Headache?" she questioned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yes. Is this another one of your spells, witch?" he said darkly.

_Well, it is my doing,_ she thought. However, Esmeralda only walked closer to him and sat right in front of him, leaning against the table.

Frollo finally looked up, boring his black eyes into her face.

Esmeralda was suddenly aware of how close she was to him. She was within his grasp. A slight quiver of fear passed through her, but she quickly stifled it.

For some unknown reason, she felt slightly guilty that she had made him stay up all night trying to find her. _Well, he's the ass who was trying to catch me in the first place. I'm only trying to help people,_ she thought.

_It's not as much his fault as it is the fault of all the regulations he follows_, another voice piped up in her head.

Frollo watched a frown appear on her face. He shot her an inquisitive look.

"Perhaps I can help you with that headache," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Esmeralda then crossed to his side, and sat on the arm of the chair. Her hands reached over to his temples. Heart leaping to her throat, she pressed her fingers to the side of his head and began to circle, muttering that he should close his eyes.

Frollo's pulse instantly quickened as her fingers worked themselves on her skin. Her touch was so soft, her fingers so gentle... why the hell was she doing this?  
_Why the hell am I doing this?_ She thought as she rubbed his temples. She should leave him stewing in his headache as punishment for trying to catch her last night. But... as she touched him a new, strange tenderness came over her.

Frollo closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair, a sigh escaping his lips. Her fingers circled and pressed with the right amount o pressure, temporarily relieving the aching pain that bubbled up there.

As she rubbed, new sinful thoughts popped into his head as suddenly as a lightening bolt. Her hands... those soft, lithe hands... he wanted them to touch his face, cradle it, then his neck... then his chest... then lower... and lower... and lower until they reached into his breeches grasping around his burning, throbbing length...

Frollo's eyes shot open and he jerked his head away from her. Esmeralda cried out in alarm, snatching her hands back. For a moment, Frollo only looked straight ahead, his breathing hitched and uneven, a bead of sweat traveling down his back.

Esmeralda instantly saw the burning desire in his eyes as he turned to her. But she also saw the alarm that flooded into his eyes, and knew exactly what his mind's eye had been conjuring before him.

Frollo tried to rise from his seat. But for some reason, Esmeralda reached out a hand to his chest and stopped him from leaving, effectively trapping him in his seat.

She looked into his eyes, those tormented, hungry eyes. And she was still afraid. But... something else built within her. A new heat, swelling in the pit of her stomach. A need. A craving that had no name.

Esmeralda's mouth opened, but no words came out. And suddenly, all she could think about was what sinful, dark fantasies had he been just imagining. What compromising positions had he imagined her in? An array of all kinds of erotic images filled her mind, each one sending more heat throughout her body.

Frollo saw the woman's eyes glaze over, and knew Esmeralda's mind was elsewhere. "Esmeralda?" he questioned.

His pale hands circled her wrist and pulled her hand off of him. Esmeralda snapped back to herself and pulled her hand away, her eyes widening in complete... turmoil.

What the hell was that?! She thought, getting to her feet.

Frollo was equally confused at her behavior. His own breathing was ragged, and he felt his own loins begin to burn with an impending need. But... she had trapped him. Forced him to sit down and stay there. But there had been no admonishment. No bitter quip about his lust.

There had simply been a wanting in her eyes. _For what?_ He thought.

It was all too mystifying. His headache now returned with a vengeance, blood roaring in his ears. Frollo rose from his chair and faced her. "I suggest you do not try anything like that again," he forced himself to say.

_No, do try it again. In fact, go even further and wrap those slender fingers around my throbbing c-_ "I need to leave," he blurted out, his own shameful thoughts causing him to march, not walk, from the room.

Esmeralda quivered, her body finally cooling down. As it did, a horrifying thought came over the gypsy: _I just... was lusting after Frollo! _

Her cheeks flushed hot again. No. _No No No No No No No_

What the hell had brought it on? He was being his normal, infuriating, sarcastic, irritable _surprising, humorous, passionate_- self.

Nope. It wasn't lust, she decided then and there. It was... delusion. She was really tired. That could have accounted for her mind being in the gutter, she thought, slightly triumphant.

But she looked back at the now slightly ajar door, where the minister had just stormed out. And in that moment, she felt an unexplainable emptiness. One that was more telling than anything else she had concocted within her mind.

Xxx

The next weeks turned into a tightrope act for Esmeralda. The nights were filled with deception, trickery. She avoided Frollo and his men, and in return, the minister would grow ever more weary, ever more irritable.

But strangely, he would not take it out on her. Esmeralda waited for him to snap at her. However, his only responses were his dry, sarcastic jabs at her. Never anger. Never condescension.

Instead, he would flash a wolfish grin at her over dinner as she yet again responded wittily to his jabs. He would smirk. And occasionally... chuckle under his breath.

Tonight, as Esmeralda crept over the rooftops, she felt anxious. A dangerous, cold Frollo... that was what she had expected. Especially after running him ragged every night.

But this? A humorous, witty judge? It was too surprising, too foreign to her. She felt even more nervous around him now. Oh of course she masked it with her own bravado. But... she was nervous about the way her heart sped up as he crept over to her . She was nervous about the way she found herself smiling at him after he had said something humorous.

A loud cry interrupted her thoughts.

xxx

Unbeknownst to her, Frollo was waiting for her.

He had paid off one of the drunks to play the victim in his scheme, ordering the man to cry out. Fearful, the drunkard had acquiesced, his hoarse shout ringing out in the night. "Fall to the ground!" Frollo hissed.

"What?!" he slurred.

"Fall down you idiot, or you will be hanging in the dungeons for a week for insubordination!" Frollo said.

The drunk fell down, and Frollo rode his horse into a nearby alley, his cold eyes surveying the street.

Frollo wanted this scheme to be over. Throw the vigilante in the dungeons and finally end this mindless cat and mouse chase.

Luckily, the bandit seemed to take the bait. Frollo's eyes narrowed. _Checkmate. _

"Are you all right?" Esmeralda murmured, lowering her voice. The man was hunched over. Probably stabbed. She knelt down beside him, but found no wound.

The high whinny of a horse caused her blood to freeze in her veins. She looked up and saw Frollo atop his horse, which now thundered towards her.

Esmeralda scrambled to her feet, and the drunk ran off. Adrenaline spiked in her veins. She began to run, knowing she couldn't outrun the horse, but too frightened to stay there as the black steed vaulted towards her, its rider's eyes blazing with a furious determination.

The roof! She thought, trying to climb up the wall.

But it was too late.

Frollo had grabbed her cloak, bringing her to her knees. Esmeralda was filled with fear. It was over. She was caught. Death was imminent. As she stared into the dark eyes of the minister, she waited for her punishment.

Frollo looked down into the masked face. The mysterious figure stared up at him. _My duty... I am bound by it_, Frollo reminded himself, about to unmask him. His skinny, pale fingers wrapped around the cloth that concealed his face. _Do it!_ Frollo heard the soldiers in the distance. _Do it now!_

He hesitated. Esmeralda's bold voice rang through his head, admonishing him already. He instantly remembered the faces of the woman rescued by this man, the faces of all the rescued saviors_. "Why bring him in when he's just helping people?"_

Frollo dropped Esmeralda, turning away.

"Go now." Frollo muttered.

Esmeralda, shocked at the sudden kindness, still was sitting on the cobblestones of the street.

"Did you hear me? Go, before they find you!" he snarled. Esmeralda scrambled to her feet and ran, diving into an alley. She hid in a barrel, listening as the soldiers caught up to Frollo.

"Minister."

"What, are you an idiot! He went down that street on the left. Go find him you impudent brute!" The horses rode away.

For a while, Esmeralda sat in the darkness, waiting. Then, she pulled herself out of the barrel and ran to one of the rooftops.

Frollo stared into the night, knowing full well he had failed on one account. But on another... he had succeeded. Despite himself, a slight, mischievous smile passed his lips as he thought of Esmeralda. Perhaps she would smile at him again when she was informed that the vigilante had not been caught again.


	22. Chapter 22

Esmeralda was dancing again.

Each day, as it grew close to dusk, Esmeralda would hum a simple tune under her breath. She would slowly and carefully move about her room, twisting and moving her legs and arms in a sensual, manner

Esmeralda practiced her dances, enjoying herself. Spurred on by boredom, Esmeralda had one day rose from her bed, and began to move. She sang every song she had ever danced to under her breath, remembering tunes long forgotten.

Frollo would stand by the door, watching through the crack in the doorway. He barely made a sound, not wanting to invade on her precious ritual. He watched as a soft smile touched her lips, one he had not seen her make in quite a while.

Perhaps it was because he had admitted to her that he still was not able to catch the vigilante. Oh, he would never tell her he had let the bandit go free; that was too... out of character. But her smirk, her triumphant smile as he had admitted his "failure to capture" the hero was payment enough for the judicial negligence he had committed.

As she leaped around her room today, Frollo was so entirely absorbed in her dance that he did not see a servant walking towards him. "Minister Frollo," he called out.

The judge whipped his head around. Hearing the voice, Esmeralda turned to the door, and saw it had been opened a crack. She narrowed he eyes, instantly knowing Frollo was behind it.

"What do you want?" Frollo snarled. The servant flinched. "There's a message sir... from the Crown," the servant gasped, his eyes wide as saucers. Frollo grabbed the scroll of parchment the servant carried, nearly crumpling it in his hands.

"Get out," he said. The servant rushed away.

Esmeralda stared out the door, hands on her hips. She cleared her throat loudly. Frollo looked up. "A word, Minister Frollo?" she said, and through the crack in the door, Frollo watched her curve a finger towards herself.

Frollo opened the door, appearing composed. However, seeing her coy, crafty eyes and face, he was struck by a sudden, ravenous, desire. "Yes?" he deadpanned.

Esmeralda smirked. "Let me let you in on a secret. Privacy is an ideal which is most valued." She repeated back to him, her tone sickly sweet. Frollo remained stone-faced. "I should have known someone was watching me. I could feel your burning eyes in the back of neck," she said.

"If they were burning, what type of burning? There are many forms of flame, gypsy. Is it the fire of anger and wrath of which you speak? Or one of more carnal means?" he said, his silken baritone sending chills up her spine. "I don't know which one I prefer to believe," she replied.

A slow smile spread on his face. "I am a dangerous man to you I suppose," he said, his voice oily and smooth.

"Remember our talk Frollo. You agreed a few days ago that I am just as poisonous to you as you are to me," she said, her own lips curving up in a mocking smile.

Their faces were now inches from each other. Esmeralda hardly knew what she was doing. Her actions seemed detached from logic. "Remember the day we met?" she said, turning from him,

Instantly, Frollo's mind filled with visions of her, curving around on the stage, her red dress clinging so perfectly to her skin. "I remember...I also remember you shamelessly teasing me, flaunting yourself in front of me," he said, remembering how she had kissed him on the nose, and then shoved his chaperon down upon his head. Esmeralda turned, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, the crowd certainly loved that! My best performance. I wonder though. What did you do with my scarf?"

"I burned it," he said tersely.

She gave him a sardonic look. "How fitting," she said wryly.

He was quiet.

"I wonder what my life had been like. Had you never seen me," she said, and a pang of guilt caused Frollo to nearly wince.

"I wonder that as well... Each night, I pray, asking the same question. Why did God ever place you in front of my eyes? Why did He thrust such a... temptation upon me," Frollo said, his deep voice solemn.

Esmeralda crossed her arms now. "Perhaps this God of yours thought you could resist," she said dryly.

A bitter laugh sounded from the judge. "God knows all, gypsy. He knows of what lies within my mind. Within my soul," he said.

"So. God knows all. I suppose you're going to say that He's punishing me for my years of sexual teasing?" she said frankly. Frollo's mouth opened and closed, and he suddenly felt breathless. Each one of her sinfully beautiful movements during the Feast of Fools flooded his mind, and he could barely think.

A wicked gleam appeared in the gypsy's eye. Esmeralda's green eyes flashed dangerously. Suddenly, she wanted to tease him. To taunt him.

"Think about it Frollo," she said as she stepped forward. With a sudden, graceful movement, she flicked the chaperon off his head, and it fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. "I have been dancing on the streets for years. Think of all the sinfully bad movements you missed," she punctuated her words with a sudden, undulating movement of her hips. She spun, jutting her bosom forward.

"You may have condemned me, judge. But you secretly enjoyed every moment of my performance," she said, her husky voice sending shivers up Frollo's spin. Esmeralda hardly knew what she was doing. Each action, each word was motivated by a desire deep within her. A desire to unhinge him. To finally control him.

Esmeralda bent back, arching her back away from the judge. The judge was aware of his own arousal building. He gritted his teeth, trying to stay lucid.

With sudden force, Esmeralda pounced, her hands pushing the minister down into an empty chair behind him. He happily submitted, his black eyes fixed firmly on the gypsy. Her eyes seemed to spark, flame up in such a volatile way.

Esmeralda strutted in front of him, hands on her hips, her toes pointing to the ground as she walked with a cat-like step. She then threw her hands over her head, and lifted her leg higher, higher... until she held her foot over her head.

"You say I have no shame. That I am a Godless heathen. But you had no shame. You had no shame in thinking of me in lust each night. You had no shame when you took me to your bed." She now lurched forward, and her nose was now inches from his. "Now tell me. Who is the one who should be more ashamed? The whore... or the whoremonger?"

Her words were like fire, like hot, unforgiving fire. Frollo's own desire flared in him again, his own spirit excited by her words. He wanted to sin. To blacken his soul with her body, to let himself ravish her body.

However, his lips curved in a smile. "A very excellent argument, witch. Your wit and charm certainly suit your purposes," he said. His hand rose up and he pressed a pale hand to her brown cheek, limiting himself to this one touch.

"But do I win, Frollo? What is your answer?" she said, her husky voice eliciting a hot pang of carnal heat within his abdomen.

Esmeralda also was burning. Not just with the fires of her anger. An unnamable desire came upon her. One to touch him...

"Can one really blame the whoremonger if the whore is willing?" he said sadistically.

"When was I willing?" she said, anger overtaking her.

"I am not referring to you my dear. For you have never been a whore," he replied, his deep voice calm, placid, disguising the dark lust in his heart.

Esmeralda froze, completely taken aback. "What?" she said, wanting to hear it again?

"You have never been a whore. A tease. A flirt. But not a whore," he said, his tone final.

A slow grin spread on her face. She had triumphed. "Say it again!" she demanded her eyes narrowing. When he did not respond, she lurched forward, pressing against him, her hands grasping his soldiers. "Say it!" she exclaimed

"You have never been a whore!" he said.

Frollo saw a relief flood into her eyes. And he suddenly realized... his words meant so much more to her than he could ever know. In that moment, staring into her beautiful, triumphant eyes, he understood that his physical abuse... his manipulations of her body had damaged her. He had made her feel dirty, used.

HE had made her feel like a whore.

Esmeralda became overwhelmed by her victory. She felt giddy from her happiness. She tried to keep control over herself, keeping herself from crying. It was a feeling of utter redemption.

An indescribable guilt now panged within the minister, as he looked at the myriad of emotions that crossed her face. She was now sitting on his lap, her body curved towards him. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice disconnected from his body. His hands rose up to her hair, and he tangled his fingers into it.

Esmeralda snapped back to reality. She tore herself away from him, rising to her feet and stumbling backwards. Her face was flushed with heat. Her hands itched with a desire to touch him, and she had not the slightest reason why.

_Remember why you felt like a whore in the first place,_ she thought, pushing back her thoughts of affection. Those feelings of passion frightened her. Had she really been... flirting with Frollo?

"Why the sudden change?" she said, her voice surprisingly steady.

Frollo rose from the chair, a grim smile on his face. "Let's say that you give a convincing argument," he said slickly, his voice sending an involuntary shudder of warmth down her spine. He turned to leave.

There were so many words she wished to say. But all she could do was gape as the minister left the room, closing the door behind him.

xxx

Thanks for reading! Please review! Thanks to everyone who is still sticking with this story! -Cgal


	23. Chapter 23

Frollo let Esmeralda go out into the courtyard each day, letting the gypsy wander around the unkempt grounds. As she walked around the barren grounds of the Frollo's residence, Claude would think to himself how vibrant she was in comparison to everything else. Even wearing a simple frock, she seemed alive with color and feeling, so unlike the thorny trees and dying foliage which surrounded his home.

Esmeralda enjoyed her times outside but still yearned to go farther. She would look to the walls that enclosed her, and let out the occasional sigh that she wasn't allowed to roam as she liked outside in the city. As she lay on the straw like grass, staring up at the blue sky, she could feel herself wishing, wanting to leave by her own accord, not when Frollo mandated her to.

Every so often, she would glance behind her, and catch Frollo's stare. She would then quickly turn away, her face flushing automatically with heat.

He looked at her so possessively, his eyes piercing deep within her. However, he had not come to her bed in two months now. Instead of feeling afraid of his glance... Esmeralda found herself liking the glances. Each time she looked at the man, an involuntary flicker of warmth would shudder through her spine.

She had never noticed how handsome he was. Or how his voice, once sounding so terrible, seemed to become more... seductive, rich and velvety. She loved talking with the man. He seemed to be the only man in her life which actually challenged her mind. It was a fact so contradictory with how she knew she should be thinking of him, that Esmeralda felt unnerved by her own thoughts.

Today, as she walked outside, she heard the bells of the church toll in the distance. It couldn't be noon or mass. Those bells had already ringed, she thought to herself, her curiosity suddenly piqued. She got up from the grass, shaking off dirt from her skirt. She looked to the high, black gates at the entrance, and walked over to it, passing by Frollo, who lingered further from her.

Frollo watched as the young woman approached the gate looking outside. He could hear the sound of revelry in the distance. "Esmeralda," he called out to her. No one should see her at his gate. It would make for unpleasant gossip.

She barely heard him. Her focus was entirely towards the gathering crowd in the streets who were surrounding a figure on horseback, throwing petals... _Oh! A wedding!_ She realized. She strained to see who it was and saw a flash of gold armor.

Her heart panged as she realized who was riding down the streets with his new bride.

She had not thought of Phoebus in such a long time. Had it really only been a few months since that night in the bell-tower? His face seemed... blurred in her mind. His face was underneath the translucent hazy veil of time, of memories lost in her mind. Esmeralda had a sudden desire to see her old-beloved's face, even if it was on his wedding day to another woman. To remind her of her life before.

"Esmeralda!" Frollo called after the girl. She had taken off, running from the gate to the house itself, her hair whipping back in the wind. She found a good handhold in one of the stone walls of Frollo's castle and began to climb, barely caring what Frollo thought. She launched herself up onto the tin roof, two stories above the ground. That should do it, she thought as she looked out beyond the wall into the street, where merrymakers cried out their congratulations. She settled on the roof and fastened her eyes on Phoebus,

"Esmeralda! Get down from there!" Frollo cried out, aghast at where the gypsy girl now sat. Anyone could peer in to see her. What was she..?

And then he remembered. The captain. His wedding day was today. Damnation.

Esmeralda looked out at Phoebus, remembering when he had pressed his lips to hers. Remembering how he had looked into her eyes, warmth glowing within them.

_Look at where I am now_, she thought. But, she as she remembered the time before, she wondered: would he have ever married her? Really?

The question plagued her as she saw Phoebus riding down the street with his beautiful, noble, white skinned bride. Even from here, she could see him kiss her, eliciting a cheer from the crowd. But, as he broke the kiss, smiling, he looked up, and for a moment, Esmeralda knew that he had seen her. She crookedly smiled, wistfully remembering when Phoebus was a possibility. With some sarcasm, she blew a kiss to the captain, hoping he would see the action. Hoping he would in some way remember her.

Frollo saw the action and suddenly felt hot with... not anger but jealousy. He inwardly chastised himself for the emotion. He was foolish to think she would ever stare at him in that beautiful, wistful manner.

Esmeralda stayed on the roof, watching long after the crowd had dissipated. Finally, she crept off the roof, and carefully stepped down to Frollo, who waited with his arms crossed. "What in heaven's name were you doing?!" he said, his low voice quiet but outraged. "I just wanted to see an old friend," she replied. However, the judge saw a twinge of regret and longing in her eyes.

She walked back out through the courtyard, her fingers pulling at the dying twigs of the bushes. She turned away from him, deep in thought. And then, she turned back to him, embarrassed at what she was about to ask.

"Frollo..." she bit her lip. Frollo frowned. She looked uncertain and hesitant. He had never seen her in this way.

"Yes?" he responded, wondering what sort of trap he had stepped into. She breathed in, feeling her question want to burst from her lips.

"Would any... well any non-gypsy...would any white man want to marry a gypsy? Not just have sex with, mind you, but... marry." She finished her statement quietly. Suddenly, her cheeks flushed red as she remembered whom she was addressing.

"Never mind," she finished quickly, wanting to have never said anything.

The question caught Frollo off guard. He suddenly felt embarrassed as he looked down at the now blushing woman. But, he refused to let her leave him dumbfounded.

"No, I will answer," he responded. He tried to think, truly think.

"I suppose it depends on the type of man you have in mind," he said diplomatically. "Well, that's vague. I expected something more along the lines of no white man should ever even think of fraternizing with such abominable vermin," she said, and for moment, she imitated is haughty imperious voice. Surprisingly, a small smile touched Frollo's lips as he heard his own voice come out of her mouth.

"A man whom only uses a woman for sexual relations is no way going to marry her," he started.

"So, that rules out you," she said wryly with a slight edge in her voice.

Frollo felt as if she had slammed him in the solar plexus. Those words made him feel uncomfortable and sad.

"But a man who waits to consummate will surely marry a woman, gypsy or no," he said, attempting to keep his voice even.

"Thanks for the Sunday School lesson teacher. Does that come with a free rosary?' she said sarcastically.

She expected some sort of violent retort, some sort of angered pious speech. But instead, a strange smile changed Frollo's features, hinting at a gentler, perhaps happier man. She crossed her arms and looked at him.

Esmeralda felt a sudden desire to place a hand on his cheek, to touch the gentler face. She bit her lip, pushing away those ludicrous thoughts.

"Judge Frollo, I have no idea who you are sometimes," she said, her tone quiet and thoughtful. He looked at her, and at that instant, wished things were different. Wished that he could have controlled himself. That he had simply seen her one day on the streets, dancing, but had not pursued.

No. That was wrong. What he really wanted... what he had always wanted was that she could have chosen him, him alone.

_"I have no idea who you are sometimes."_

"Perhaps... I can change that," he muttered. He looked at Esmeralda, and then said, "Come with me, if you wish." Esmeralda was intrigued and followed him.

xxx

Frollo led her into his study, and shut the door quietly behind him. He strode in front of her, and motioned towards a portrait of an equally severe man as Frollo.

"I suppose this is your father?" Esmeralda asked stepping towards the painting.

"Yes." He responded, his eyes fixed ahead. He then turned to her.

"My father was a judge of Paris as well. He was a very... pious man. He married my mother from a well-to-do family.." Frollo said. Already, he could hear the cries of his father ringing throughout his head. _"You lousy, ungrateful boy! The Lord is not pleased with you!"_

"He was strict man, traditional in values. A good Catholic man " he said. The words felt false in his mouth. Esmeralda could hear the monotone way he said his words. _He doesn't believe what he's saying,_ she realized. Esmeralda watched his face, aware of all the emotion Frollo was trying to suppress. She leaned on his desk, watching his every movement carefully.

"I studied throughout my childhood. Read many things, memorized every book I laid eyes on. I was a scholar. A misanthropic bookworm. An insufferable know it all. That was all before I realized that God was the one thing I should focus on. I wanted so... desperately to feel that connection, to find that calling," he said.

He ran a hand through his gray hair, suddenly becoming ashamed. "But... I... I could not become a priest." He exhaled.

"I should have known that I would be unworthy. I had been told that singular fact from the beginning," he said, his head suddenly hanging low in shame. He did not look at her as the memories came flooding back.

"I was the eldest. I was supposed to be the rock, the guiding son of the family. Instead, I was told I had failed the examinations. I knew enough. Memorized each line of text in the bible. But Father Maurice saw within me a darkness that he could not allow into the House of God." He looked up again, his eyes boring deep into Esmeralda's.

"Even he, _even he,_ knew that I would fall victim to my sinful passions. Lust, greed, wrath. "

"You know more than anyone of the darkness and evil which consumes my soul. I cannot resist the draw of your flesh. I could not resist falling into the evil temptations which plagued me each night without fail. They still plague me." Esmeralda listened and a frightened shiver slipped through her. Her body felt hot. What lurid fantasies had he fallen asleep to?

"You asked me who I am. I am a sinner. A monster. I tried to deny it as a boy. I tried to deny that the punishments my father gave me had actual grounds. But they did." He sighed. "I have never been a good man."

With that comment he turned away from her. Esmeralda could see the muscles in his back beneath the dark robes tensing up.

"We are not born monsters, Frollo," she said, finding her voice again.

"What?"

"I said, we are not born monsters." She breathed in.

"You were not born a monster. But... what you have done-that is what makes you a monster. Not pre-ordained bullshit, but your actions." Frollo's eyes narrowed for a moment, and she flinched in expectation of an admonishment. But his face relaxed, and then a look of pain twisted his features.

For a moment, the two stood in silence. Esmeralda suddenly wished she could say something, anything, to help him.

Frollo finally spoke again. "If a man's will and character are guaranteed by their actions... could they...redeem themselves later?" he said, his voice contemplative.

Esmeralda could barely speak now. What could she possibly say to the man who had made her feel lower than dirt, who now spoke of redemption? She should condemn him, damn him, say he was beyond saving.

But... she remembered his charity to the beggars at Rue de Elisier. She remembered when he had denied himself her body. She remembered when he had not turned her in to the authorities. So instead, she said, "It depends on the man, and that man's will to face what he's done."

Esmeralda got up from the desk, trying to busy herself with smoothing her skirt to avoid his intense eyes. A question surged to her lips. "Why do you ask me this? I know nothing of morals. I am and always will be a pagan in your eyes," she said, shaking her head. A wan smile appeared on Frollo's face.

"Because you have taught me of wisdom in places I refused to see it before," he said, his head bowing slightly to her.

He left the room, placing his chaperon atop his head. Esmeralda stared after him, her heart feeling light within her chest.


	24. Chapter 24

The night came quickly, darkness falling on the streets of Paris. Esmeralda sat at her window, looking out at the stragglers who drank in the streets, celebrating the captain's wedding. The newlyweds had rode off long before, probably off to consummate their holy union. A brief spark of irritation flared up in Esmeralda, but soon dissipated. "He certainly didn't take long to rebound, didn't he?" she murmured to herself, rolling her eyes. Esmeralda wasn't gone for two weeks, and Phoebus already found a new wife.

Had Phoebus ever loved her?

Esmeralda now sat up in her bed, hugging her knees to her chest. The question had plagued her for a while now. Remembering his cocksure attitude, the way he had confidently asserted his masculinity around her... she wasn't so sure if it was really love, or just flirting.

_"I'm Phoebus. It means Sun God," _he had said. God that was irritatingly arrogant. The way he had tried to so suavely court her. Even that line he used before he kissed her. _"That arrow almost pierced your heart." "I'm not sure it didn't._" That had to take the cake. It was so... sickeningly charming. It was so unlike the smooth silken baritone quips and passionate outbursts Frollo had used...

_What the hell are you thinking?!_ Esmeralda thought, and she felt her face flush hot just thinking of his deep voice, his dry yet amusing comments, his utterances of absolute passion. Esmeralda pressed her fingers to her temples, as if to press her thoughts down and away. She forced herself to think of Phoebus. As she did, another thought popped in her head.

Did she still love Phoebus?

Of course she had told Frollo she loved him. In a way it was almost out of spite. Frollo could take her body, but not her mind, not her heart. However... truly, she wondered if she loved Phoebus. Sure she cared for the man, he was a good one despite his flaws. But... when they had kissed that night, as he lay wounded in the bell-tower... was she in love with him?

The room suddenly felt too small. She had wanted to take a night off of running through the city to actually get a full night of sleep. But she could not for the life of her stop thinking. Esmeralda threw off the covers and crept into the hallway, which was dimly lit by torches.

She walked silently through the corridor, her thoughts plaguing her. Phoebus had become such a saint in her eyes, ever since she had been captured. Especially when she compared him to the monstrous judge who had imprisoned her. But, after seeing him today, atop that horse, kissing his new bride... she wasn't sure if her affections were real, or were just delusional.

And as for Phoebus's heart... it had never been hers. He couldn't love her. A gypsy, the town harlot. Oh he was attracted like all men were. She had seen that look in his eyes the ay of the feast of fools, how he had removed his visor to take a better look at her assets. But in love?

She was not worth love. A good fuck, sure. But love? No.

Esmeralda knew she was no whore. But no man in her life... no man had ever tried to know her, really know her before coming on to her. She realized then no man had ever truly loved her. Lusted after her, wagged their disgusting tongues at her. But not love.

The sudden truth had a bitter taste in her mouth. She slumped down to the ground, trying to hold in her tears. Here she was, well fed, underneath roof, crying about love. It was ridiculous.

But hot tears leaked out of her eyes as she thought of the various men throughout her life. Men had leered at her, catcalled her, would throw coins to watch her dance. She had played their emotions. She had once been the manipulator. But now, as she sat in a lonely castle, she realized then that she was powerless. That no one would actually care, really choose, to love her.

She heard the sound of a door open. She didn't move, her sobs shaking her body.

Frollo had heard a disturbance outside of his study. He threw open the door, casting light onto the dark hallway. He heard...crying.

Frowning, he walked through the hallway, until his gaze fell on Esmeralda. "Esmeralda?"

"Go away," she croaked. Frollo frowned.

He slowly crouched down on the floor beside her. She shifted away from him. Small gasps-_sobs_, came from her. Her shoulders shook.

He instantly remembered that day, months ago, when she had assuaged his desires and then cried so violently.

Now, she was in pain again. But from what?

He carefully slumped down to the ground, unsure of what to do. He listened to her cries for a moment, each sob sending a pang through his heart.

With carefully deliberate motions, he dug through his robes and found a handkerchief. He shifted over to her. "I said go away," she said weakly, turning around.

Her eyes suddenly fell on the white cloth that Frollo held in his hand. Without a word, he held it out to her, his rings catching the light of the torches.

She slowly took the cloth from him, wiping at her eyes roughly. For a moment, the two figures sat together in the hall.

"Tell me what is wrong," Frollo said. "It doesn't concern you," she said quickly. "Please?"he said, his voice firm.

Esmeralda looked up at him, her eyes still stinging from tears.

"I'm worthless." she said.

The words struck the judge by surprise. "I'm sorry?"

"Phoebus doesn't love me, because I am worthless," she said.

The words struck the judge like a slap in the face. "Now where would you get an idea like that?" he asked.

"From _you_. And the other men out there." She said bitterly. "I'm not worth anyone's love. I'm just... I'm just a girl to fuck. Not one to take home, not one to love," she said. A bitter laugh erupted form her.

"Look at me. Crying over something so.. so..."

"Untrue." Frollo interrupted. Esmeralda turned away from him.

"You were right. I am no one's love. He doesn't love me. Why should any man love a girl whose only use is to keep the bed warm?" Frollo could hear his own words in her voice.

"No," he muttered, feeling a savage anger towards himself. He found himself wanting to embrace her, wanting to dry the tears from her eyes.

"I am wrong. I've always been_ wrong._" He placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched away. "Esmeralda... you have always believed me wrong. Why stop now?" he said, a weak smile on his face. Esmeralda did not respond.

With sudden force he turned her body to him. She let out a small cry and attempted to wriggle out of his grasp. "Listen. _Listen_ to me, gypsy!" She stopped moving, the authority in his voice frightening her.

"You are not some slut. You are not a good for nothing harlot. I am _wrong_, do you hear me? _Wrong_! A man is a fool to not see you for the good woman you are. Phoebus is a fool. I... I am a fool!"

His deep voice echoed off the stone walls, ringing through the corridor. Esmeralda sat, stunned. Her mouth had fallen open. Frollo trembled, his own passions clouding his judgement. He wanted to press her small form to his, plunder her mouth with his tongue. He wanted to... oh he wanted!

It was with difficulty he finally let her go. His eyes fell on the handkerchief that lay near her feet. He picked up the damp cloth and carefully wiped her tears. She sat, still paralyzed under his now soft touches. "You are so much more than a lusty woman, Esmeralda. The moment you forget that, is the moment you _cheapen_ your own value." He stopped and leaned back. "And that value is worth more than the Crown itself," he said, his words halting.

Esmeralda was paralyzed, shocked by him. "You never cease to alarm and surprise me," she said quietly. Frollo said nothing, too overwhelmed by the turbulence that wracked his body and mind.

The gypsy breathed in and out, her breaths catching in her throat. A lump was forming in her throat. Frollo watched as more tears slipped down her face. She could feel herself spinning, and all of a sudden she began to babble, unable to contain the dismal thoughts in her mind any longer. The words fell from her lips, punctuated by sobs.

Frollo listened as she spoke, her anguish, her trials, her deepest fears. She spoke of dancing on the streets, feeling free even as men leered and jeered at her. She spoke of her people, of seeing them starve, seeing them die in the streets. She spoke of dying imprisoned.

Each worry, small and large, tumbled from her lips. At times she became incoherent, her own crying overcoming her. And each time, Frollo would lean closer, wipe the tears which fell from her eyes. The guilt he felt astounded him. But what shocked him more was the sudden openness which Esmeralda now came to. She looked so human, so vulnerable.

Esmeralda talked until her voice was hoarse. She hardly knew what she was saying anymore. And yet, never did Frollo raise his voice. Never did he admonish her, scold her for berating him. Instead, he simply wiped her tears and listened.

After a while, she had cried her last sobs. As she kept talking, she could feel her own eyes growing heavy, as exhaustion began to overtake her.

Frollo watched as the woman's eyelids began to slowly draw closed. "I do believe that you should return to your chambers," he murmured, his own voice weak after staying silent for so long. Esmeralda looked at him through half lidded eyes, nodding listlessly.

Frollo crouched down. He hesitated. "Will you permit me?" he said, his arms surrounding her. Too tired and senseless to protest, she nodded again, her eyes closing.

Frollo carefully lifted her up, aware of her sweet odor that wafted to his nose. Trying to keep his wits, he held her close to his chest, his arms straining to keep her safe, cradled to him. He walked carefully, and slowly swung the door of her room open. He walked to the bed, and lowered her down onto the mattress. She turned away from him, slipping further into sleep.

Watching her lying there, defenses down... Frollo was struck by her fragility. This strong woman had her own fears, her own insecurities that plagued her each night. Fear of him, of the world's prejudice, of the hatred of others. Without thinking, he placed his pale hand on her hair, slowly and carefully running his fingers through. "I'm sorry," he murmured, knowing that no matter how many times he said it, it would never be enough.

He bent over and kissed her softly on the cheek. Esmeralda had already fallen asleep. With a heavy heart, he left the room.

xxx

Thanks for reading! -Cgal


	25. Chapter 25

The next morning, Frollo took Esmeralda to the cathedral to visit the hunchback.

As Frollo led her up the stairs, he could feel Esmeralda's emerald eyes latched onto his form. Slightly amused, he would occasionally meet her stare, causing her to hastily jerk her gaze away. Her cheeks would flush red.

However, he was getting annoyed by her silence. "Esmeralda... I do believe it's rude to stare. Especially when one has nothing to say," Frollo said, smirking.

Esmeralda's eyes widened. Damn, he caught her. "What makes you think I have nothing to say?" she said, keeping her tone even.

They had now reached the middle of the tall staircase, adn Frollo turned, towering above her. "Well then, if you are willing to be so verbose, then perhaps tell me what's knocking about in that head of yours," Frollo said. Unable to stop himself, he placed his fingers upon her chin and gently raised her face to his. In his dark eyes, there was a spark of mischief.

Esmeralda looked up at him, and then, in a rush of air, started to speak. "I just... I just want to thank you. For last night. I needed... that," she said.

She was unable to believe what she was saying. She, Esmeralda, gypsy dancer, was thanking Judge Frollo for comforting her?

Frollo only nodded. "Well... you were upset. And interrupting my work, might I add," he said quickly, masking his own feelings.  
However, Esmeralda shot him a wry smile. "Of course," she said dryly, and she winked at him.  
"Esmeralda?!"

Quasimodo's voice rang into the staircase. Frollo cursed under his breath. "No need to huff and puff judge. You cannot keep me all to yourself," she said, ducking under his arm and walking up the stair. Frollo found his eyes drawn to her swaying hips as she brushed past him. He shook his head, as if to rid the heated thoughts in his mind.

Esmeralda climbed up the stairs, and saw Quasimodo standing there, arms folded. "Hey Quasi," she said, smiling.  
A little taken aback by her cheerful smile, Quasimodo cocked his head to the side. "Hi... Es... um. You seem cheerful," he noted.

However, his bafflement soon turned to anger as Frollo followed behind her, exiting the stairwell. "Master," he said disdainfully.  
"Quasimodo," Frollo responded.  
Seeing Quasi's tensed shoulders, Esmeralda then grabbed the hunchback's hand and turned him to the ladder leading to the loft. "Let's get going," she said. Behind Quasi's back, Esmeralda turned to Frollo, mouthed the word _go_, and waved him off with her hand.

Irritated but amused by her dismissal of him, Frollo climbed down the stairs. He had his own matters to attend to, with Father Maurice.

xxx

"Bye Es," Quasimodo called out to her as she walked behind Frollo down the stairs.  
"Bye Quasi!" she said, grinning.

Esmeralda followed the judge down the stairs, eventually crossing to his side. "Slow down Frollo, what's the rush?" she said as he strode to the cathedral doors. "Time is always of the essence. Nothing productive was done by simply ambling about," he said.

He took her hand in his, and opened the door. Still nervous about someone seeing them together, he pulled up her hood. She shot him an irritated glance, one that made him feel slightly embarrassed. He then placed a hand gingerly on her shoulder, and pushed her along.

"Come along Esmeralda," he said.

But she hung back, her eyes fixated on someone. Irritated, the judge grabbed her arm. "Esmeralda!" he hissed, eyeing the people around them. He could not have rumors being spread that the gypsy was in his home.

He got closer to her. All of a sudden he saw what she saw. Her eyes were fixated on that leader, what was his name, of the gypsies. "Clopin," she murmured, her eyes fixed on his face.

Esmeralda had not seen the man in several months. But there he was, entertaining the children with his puppets. She laughed as he pulled out the puppet of the judge. Frollo saw the display and his eyes narrowed. However, he heard the laugh, and saw the wistful smile on her face. Esmeralda was instantly filled with longing to reach over and embrace the man, her friend, her mentor. "Esmeralda," Frollo said, his voice filled with warning.

She finally began to move again, and stepped into the carriage. Frollo sat barking out an order to the driver. The carriage lurched forward.

"Is he a friend of yours?" Frollo asked. "Friend. He practically raised me," she murmured looking out the small window.

"You never talk about your family," he noted.

Esmeralda shrugged. "I figured you'd be irritated if I brought it up,"

"You probably thought correctly," he said dryly. But, now curiosity welled inside of him. "However, since I've revealed everything about my family, I suppose you should return the favor. An eye for an eye," he concluded.

"Oh, you just want to hear how I was raised so sinfully bad, how I became a pagan," she teased. "That is not my intention at all," he said.

She looked out the carriage for a moment. Then, she spoke. "My mother's name was Imelda. I was actually not her true daughter though. Apparently, I had been found on the road by Clopin and a few others of my caravan, near southern France."

Frollo's eyebrows raised. "You were-" he started.

"A foundling? Yes." She said smiling. "My mother-I call her my mother because that is what she is- was never married. Sure there were men, but, they were the sort that didn't stick around for long, if you catch my drift," she said dryly. "So, I never had a stable father figure other than Clopin. Clopin was the one who had found me, and given me my name. He would teach me about the ways of a gypsy. He taught me how to fight, how to feed myself, even at some points how to dance, although my mother did most of that," she said, smiling to herself.

"They say it takes a village to raise a child. For me, it took a caravan. They became my family, although I was not born within their camp." She said.

In an instant, Frollo could imagine in his mind's eye a younger Esmeralda dancing through an encampment, dark skinned men and women each watching her and smiling. "You sacrifice yourself, for those who aren't even of your blood?" he asked, folding his arms.

Esmeralda stared at him, nodding. "Yes. Of course! They may not be blood, but I am kin to them. I would die for them if it meant they would live," she said fiercely.

The carriage lurched to a halt. "After you," he said, waving his arm. Esmeralda left the carriage, walking in through the door. Frollo followed. "You've never spoke about your mother," Esmeralda commented. "There is not much to tell. A good Christian woman," he said.

"Nothing more? Not even a hobby? Come now, minister every mother has a personality."

Frollo smiled. "Well, she was certainly not as... exotic as yours,"

"I assumed that. Your face is too pale to mistake you for a gypsy," she said, letting out a throaty chuckle. Frollo could not stop himself from scoffing.

"Fine then. Your mother is as...saintly as Mary. But any other girls in your life? Did little Frollo have a crush?" she said, her tone jesting.

"No such distractions were ever there. I apologize in advance for the lack of entertainment," he said dryly.

"Girls aren't distractions, they're companions. And come now, was there any little lady which caught those cold black eyes?" she said tauntingly.

Frollo tried to remain stone-faced, but her taunts and good-natured teasing were infectious. A smile appeared on his face.

"I see a smile. A memory from long ago is stirring," she said.

"You will have no such luck. I did not give in to the follies of pubescent infatuations"

"It's called a crush, Frollo, and surely there was someone."

Frollo shook his head.

"Really? There was nobody? I swear, there are times I believe you were never a child at all," Esmeralda said.

"Perhaps I had the fortune of simply being born wise,"

"That must be miserable," she commented.

Frollo sighed. "Indeed. But it prepared me well for the life I lead," he said.

Esmeralda suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder. "A little fun probably would have helped you," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone.

"Fun, is frivolity for children," he said sternly.

"You were a child Frollo. You were not born old. Perhaps you grew up faster than anyone else. But... there was a time that you were small," she said.

"I suppose you had a multitude of frivolities in your youth," he said.

"Of course! Work hard, play hard. A girl certainly can keep herself occupied in a troupe full of performers." She backed away from him.

"For example, one can learn to cartwheel from the finest acrobats of Paris." With those words, Frollo watched as she tumbled, flipping and turning down the hall. The servants which passed all stopped and stared. "Esmeralda!" he scolded.

"Or, can learn to juggle from the most dexterous of the France." Esmeralda turned to a servant who passed by with a bowl of apples and plucked three. She began to toss the fruits in the air, emitting a gasp from the servants. "Esmeralda, control yourself!" he chastised. Esmeralda smiled a playful grin at him. She was enjoying this. Enjoying teasing him.

"Or, learn to dance from the most sensuous of athletes from the southern seas," she said, raising her arms. She began to twirl and move her body in a way which Frollo could not possibly ignore. Her eyes sparked with a flirtatious fire that he had never seen before.

Esmeralda kicked a leg up and then cartwheeled again down the hall. "Esmeralda, this is highly indecent," he said, but his words were growing fainter.

She ended in a split, waving her arm up. The servants instantly clapped. "Get back to your posts!" Frollo barked. The staff then scattered.

Esmeralda slithered up to him, a teasing look in her eye. "Or perhaps, learn the greatest art of divination from the most holy of palm readers." She reached for him. "Get back heathen," he said, crossing his arms.

"Come now Frollo, there is no harm in letting me practice my parlor tricks," she said, reaching for his hand. Still glaring at her, he complied. Her small, slim fingers traced against, the lines of his hands.

"I see... a long life, filled with persecuting the 'guilty'." She said, drawing her finger against one of the lines.

She was suddenly aware of how close she was drawing to him, how near to her he was. She cleared her throat, her face suddenly feeling flush with heat. "I see... a small fate line. Too smart I see to believe in such a foolish thing,"

"This is no magic, it is simple knowledge you already possess," he retorted. She shushed him.

"And... a heart line... strong. There... there is good to be found within you," she concluded softly. Frollo looked at her, shocked at the sudden boon she had given him. Esmeralda slowly let go of his hand, and now stared into his eyes. She could see herself reflected there, her face seeming small before the powerful man. Frollo looked down at her, feeling words swirl in his head to say.

But all he could manage was, "Thank you for the most intriguing spectacle gypsy," and he was gone, slinking back down the corridor. Esmeralda still stood, her heart pounding thunderously in her chest.

And suddenly, she knew she did not want him to skulk off into his office, avoiding her. She wanted him to talk to her. To be honest.

So... she ran after him, and grabbed his arm. He spun around, eyes narrowed. "Frollo... I... I do believe you owe me another reading lesson," she said, the words starting out quiet, but then becoming more confident sounding. Frollo's eyes widened, and he scrutinized her face. No... there was no sign of trickery in her emerald eyes. Only a pleading desire. One that filled him with a new emotion. _Hope._

Frollo then took her hand at placed it at his arm. "Well... if that is what my pupil wishes... then she shall have it," he said.

He lead her down the hall, and they began speaking to each other, grins each touching their lips.

xxx

Thanks for reading! -Cgal


	26. Chapter 26

Days passed, and the servants noticed that the minister and his captive spent more and more time together. The gypsy seemed much more joyful in the minister's company, and even the minister seemed a little less on edge.

However, soon news came from the outskirts of town. News of bandits threatening to encroach Paris.

xxx

Judge Frollo shut the door behind him, marching up the stairs to his room. Esmeralda heard him come in and opened the door to her bedroom.

She wandered over to his room, where he now filled a satchel with clothes. "Going away for a while?" she commented, leaning against the door frame.

Frollo glanced behind him at the gypsy. "A band of thieves was spotted on the outskirts of the city. I am going with the guards to dispel any further mischief."

Esmeralda's eyebrows rose for a split second. "Will it be rather dangerous?" she said dryly. "What, are you waiting for my timely demise?" he said, a crooked smile on his face. Esmeralda shrugged, but shook her head. "Liar," he muttered, swinging the satchel onto his shoulder. A sound of disagreement sounded in Esmeralda's throat, and Frollo smirked.

"I should return by tomorrow night at latest. Don't worry gypsy, I will be back soon enough," he said. Esmeralda shot him a wry smile then left his room.

xxx

Esmeralda was restless two days after Frollo left. She could not for the life of her stop squirming and pacing around the room. She would flip through books lining the shelves of Frollo's office, but her mind could not focus on the script on the page._ It's the rain_, she decided, passing off her bout of restlessness to cabin fever.

As she stared out the window, staring at the rivulets of water which fell down the windowpane, she felt a sudden anxiety. Was he hurt? He should have been back by now.

The thoughts of worry, for Frollo of all people, surprised her. Yet no matter how much she tried to push the thoughts from her mind, she could see in her mind's eye the minister's broken body arriving back at the house.

Was he really that strong a fighter? He was not a young man anymore. However... she could remember his strength as he had picked her up and lay her in her bed, his arms holding her to his broad chest...

_What am I thinking?!_ She thought,, slamming the book she had pointlessly opened. To her relief though, she heard the sound of a horse coming through the gates. She walked quickly down the stairs to the front hall, where the servants had gathered. Murmurs of conversations echoed off the stone walls.

With a sudden bang, Frollo stumbled in, clutching his left shoulder. His dark eyes shifted around the room, looking at all the faces of his staff. "Don't you all of _jobs_ you're supposed to be doing?" he snarled.

The servants instantly scattered, too afraid to ask otherwise. Esmeralda stared at Frollo, watching as he climbed the stairs, brushing past her. He clutched his arm, and moved with such an uncharacteristic clumsiness that she knew something was wrong. She followed him up the stairs, then watched as he dragged himself into his room. He did not shut the door, making it easy for Esmeralda to open it. "What the hell happened to you?" she said to him.

Frollo's head snapped up, and his eyes grew dark and stormy. "Let me alone!" he said.

"You're injured, aren't you?" He didn't say anything, instantly confirming the gypsy's suspscions. "Do you have water, wine, needles and thread, and a washcloth?" she asked, coming into the room.

"Did you not understand what I said? I said to let me alone!" he rebuked.

"And I say stop being a proud cock and let me help you!" she spat back.

Frollo stared at the woman who now ransacked his room, looking for the elements she desired. He felt defensive. He did not want her meddling. He could take care of himself, as he always had.

But this time, the pain was so unbearable, he had no choice but to relent. "Fine. There are the necessary items you need in a closet down the hall, to the left." With some difficulty, he found the keys from his pocket and gave them to her. "I'll be back," she said.

Frollo sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for her. She came back, taking on an industrious and authoritative demeanor. "Okay, take off your robe," she said matter of fact-ly. "I am quite fine doing this by myself-" Frollo started indignantly.

"Take off your damn robe or I can't help you!" she said, exasperated.

Begrudgingly, he shouldered off his robe, now naked from the waist up. He shifted uncomfortable under her gaze. She'll only look at my shoulder, that's all. The scars on his back would go undiscovered.

Esmeralda tried not to notice. But her eyes wandered over the judge's surprisingly toned chest. His skin was like marble, illuminated by the fire. Her eyes peered over his muscular arms, his broad, strong shoulders. A small patch of silver hair adorned the center of his chest. A warm flicker started up within her. _Focus!_ She ordered herself, tearing her eyes away from his form, now looking to his shoulder.

Esmeralda's eyes widened as she saw the large wound which was on his shoulder, a gash probably made by a knife. He had been pressing a cloth to quell the bleeding, but it still leaked crimson blood. She sighed and then sat next to him on the bed, first taking a wet washcloth and washing the wound. He winced as the cold water hit his open wound, causing a stinging burning sensation. "Hold still," she muttered, now uncorking the wine bottle. As she poured the wine, Frollo gritted his teeth, burning pain in his wound. "You're enjoying this aren't you?" he said, his voice strained.

"Yes, quite a lot actually," she said. A slight smirk touched Frollo's grim face. She threaded the needle and leaned closer to the wound.

"Hold still, minister. Or I will be forced to punish you," she said, smirking. One of Frollo's eyebrows rose up in surprise. She then started to stitch up the wound. Frollo clenched his fists and looked straight ahead.

"I should've known you would be more tolerant of needles," she commented as she stitched him up. "A little pain here and there builds character," he said, wincing as she stabbed the needle into a sensitive part of skin. "Sorry," she said, seeing him flinch.

Finally, she finished, now cleaning her hands in the wash basin. "You'll live," she concluded. "I never thought otherwise," he said stubbornly. Esmeralda rolled her eyes and cleaned up the excess blood from his wound.

"You'll have to keep your shoulder still for a while. At least until it..." her voice trailed off as her eyes suddenly glanced upon the minister's back. "heals," she finished, taking in the grisly sight.

His back was layered with rivulets of scarred skin, left from a whip. The puckered skin covered all of his pale back, horrifying to behold. She stifled a gasp looking at them. How much pain had they given him over the years? Her brown hands were drawn towards the scars. Esmeralda placed a gentle hand on the wounds.

He jerked around, his worst fears realized. The scars had long been a part of him, his secret shame. Each scar represented a wrongdoing he did, something he didn't want to share with anyone. Frollo stared at the woman, expecting disgust.

Instead, a sadness filled Esmeralda's eyes as she contemplated what sort of life her captor had. She saw the shame in his face. "There's no need to be ashamed," she commented, her voice quiet. She touched his shoulder, her thumb tracing over one of the scars. He quivered under her touch, the memories of abuse from his father flooding back into his mind.

"Your father?" she asked, suspecting who the culprit was. Frollo sighed, staring into the fire. "Yes."

No longer could he find words to defend the cruel man his father was. At this moment, beneath Esmeralda's kind gaze, he could no longer deny the harsh punishments given to him each day. All he could remember was how he had cried, and how he had forever been changed by each whiplash given to him.

"There's no need to be ashamed. Scars are like a map to a person's past. Even I have a few," she said, trying to break the silence. Esmeralda bent down and lifted the hem of her skirt, her fingers grazing over a pale mark on her calf. "This one I got while running away from some guards. I tripped and cut my leg on some broken glass."

Frollo eyed her intently as she showed her left hand to him, her fingers tracing over a line in her palm. "I cut myself while making soup. I'm really a horrible cook. Cut up myself more than a potato."

Frollo's eyes fell upon two pale gouges in her skin on her right arm. "And what is this one my dear?" he asked.

For a moment, Esmeralda was silent. Then, she took his right hand and placed it on her arm.

His rings matched perfectly with the pale scars.

Both of them stared at each other in silence. When Esmeralda found her voice again, she said, "This was when you...were pinning me down."

In an instant, a deep sadness flooded through the minister. He had hurt her so much and scarred her. Just like his father had with him. When he looked up into Esmeralda's face, it was with a deep, palatable remorse.

With surprising tenderness, he lifted her arm to his face and kissed the scar, murmuring, "I'm sorry," into her smooth, dark skin.

Esmeralda sat for a moment, hypnotized. Then, snapping out of his spell, she jerked her arm back to her. "I...I have to go." She stammered out, her voice hoarse. She left the room quickly and shut the door behind her.

Frollo cursed to himself. Damnation.

Esmeralda stood, leaning against his door, clutching her arm to her chest. A myriad of emotions crashed through her mind. Sadness, indignation...longing.

She headed back to her room, her arm still tingling where his lips had pressed so lovingly to her skin.


	27. Chapter 27

Yet again, Esmeralda ran through the streets, hearing the thundering of hoofbeats behind her. She ducked into a narrow alley, hiding as the soldiers rode past her. "Search everywhere! You have your orders!" cried out a voice.

Esmeralda barely breathed, knowing that any move she made would be heard. She gripped her knife tightly in her hand.

The soldiers did not decide to check her alley, and she breathed a sigh of relief as the sound of the hoofbeats grew fainter.

Esmeralda walked to the street, checking left and right for the soldiers. Seeing none, she scrambled across, her footsteps quiet.

Little did she know someone was watching her. Frollo had seen the figure duck into the alley. He had dismounted from his horse, quieting the beast with a sugar cube. He needed to make sure the man was not caught by the soldiers. The sentence now was death.

He walked towards the figure who now ducked into another alley. He was rather small. Probably a young boy by the looks of it.

Esmeralda now looked intently all around her. However, she did not see the soldier behind her.

"I got him!" the soldier yelled, charging at her. Her heart pounding in her chest, Esmeralda took off running, sprinting quickly down the street. The soldier kept pursuing her.

Frollo watched as the brutish soldier threatened to run down the mysterious boy. Thinking quickly, he slapped the hindquarters of his horse, causing Snowball to rear up and charge down the streets. "Look out!" he called out to the two figures.

The soldier let out a cry of alarm and ran faster. Esmeralda turned and saw Snowball pursuing her. With a grunt she threw herself onto the side of the street, Snowball's hooves barely missing her. The stone ground slammed into her chest, knocking the wind out of her. She looked up, and saw the judge, dressed in his black robes, walking calmly down the street. Her eyes narrowed and she stared back, yet again feeling gratitude for such an unlikely figure.

But Snowball had reached the end of the street. The soldier had dashed away into a side street. Snowball reared up again and turned around, charging down the road

Frollo's eyes widened as the horse vaulted towards him. Frollo tried to run, his chaperon flying from his head.

Esmeralda ran to Frollo and launched her body at him . "Get down!" she yelled, crashing into him. The two fell to the side of the road, Esmeralda landing on top of Frollo's broad chest. The horse charged past, whinnying into the night.

Frollo was momentarily stunned, the wind knocked out of him. He looked up into the masked face of his savior. Emerald green eyes stared back at him.

Suddenly, Frollo narrowed his eyes, remembering the voice. That was no boy's voice. Frollo stood up and held the masked figure in place. Esmeralda panicked, trying to squirm out of his grip.

Frollo grabbed the cloth which masked her face and ripped it away, revealing the beautiful face of Esmeralda.

For a moment, the two stared at each other, Esmeralda's blood feeling like ice within her veins. She feared his anger. Oh God, she was in for it now!

Frollo looked down at the woman, scarcely able to believe that it had really been her. How could he not have seen it? She had been sneaking out of his house every night. She was under his roof for God's sake!

Frollo's head whipped around as he heard the noise of soldiers. "Shut up, and get on that horse! We have a lot to discuss!" he hissed through his teeth, pulling Esmeralda up. His hands held her forearms firmly, not wanting to let go. How could she have been so reckless? The soldiers could have easily killed her before!

Esmeralda said nothing, but complied. _Shit._

She mounted Snowball who had finally calmed down. Frollo followed behind her. "Keep your head down!" he commanded, and she followed, suddenly feeling small next to the imposing man whose arms crossed in front of her to hold the reins. He had replaced his chaperon on his head, and as she looked back, Frollo now resembled the austere, severe judge which she had come to fear as a girl. With a snap of the reins, Snowball lurched forward, riding off into the night

xxx

Frollo rode with her back to his home, his iron-like grip keeping her faced forward. Esmeralda felt how stiff his form was against hers, and knew he was angry.

After dismounting from his horse, Esmeralda attempted to walk away to get to the door. However, Frollo grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. "Ouch!" she cried out. "What the devil do you think you were doing?" he said, his eyes ablaze with anger.

She didn't respond, and instead stared defiantly back at him. "Esmeralda, an explanation is most recommended at this point in time!" he snarled. The gypsy gritted her teeth, inwardly scolding herself that she had been so careless to get caught. "I am waiting," he said, his teeth bared.

"I was helping," she said.

"Helping? How exactly is sneaking out of my house each night to launch yourself at any lowlifes you meet helping?" he said, aghast. Esmeralda did not respond.

"The whole 'strong and silent' act is getting rather tiresome rather quickly, Esmeralda! Give me an explanation as to why you were out there tonight! Why is it that these past few months, you have been a wanted fugitive within Paris?! Why?!"

Finally, Esmeralda began to speak in a passionate outburst of energy. "Its helping because for the first time in my life I'm able to create a world where the meek are given justice. For the first time, I have a role in society other than dancing around and looking pretty. I wanted justice for my people. I can't do that lying around and being trapped in your house!"

"Typical. The gypsy plays the martyr. But I don't think you understand how gravely in danger you have put yourself in. Do you understand that I am supposed to be taking you to the torture chamber right now? That I am supposed to be interrogating you and inflicting the worst imaginable pain on you at this very moment?" he said.

"And you decided not to. I suppose I'm supposed to applaud you on your acts of selflessness," she said savagely. She was so irritated, so furious at him! She had only been trying to help!

"Did you ever think what would have happened if a soldier had captured you without my presence to protect you? You could have been killed!" he said, gritting his teeth. "Really? I suppose that's why you rescued me. Needed to make sure your whore was safe to warm your bed tonight!" she said, the words spilling out before she could even think about it.

Frollo's response was immediate, and violent. "Damn it, woman! How could you possibly say such a thing?" he said coldly. "You know as well as I that I have not gone to your bed in three months now. Do you really believe that I value you only for your flesh?!" he snarled, bringing his face closer to hers.

Esmeralda's mouth opened and closed as she tried to think of words to say. She suddenly felt embarrassed by what she had just said, ashamed of those petulant, bitter words. Frollo kept going, his own indignation fueling his words.

"I rescued you because I could not bear to think what would happen to you if a soldier caught you first. I couldn't bear to think of them, beating you, raping you, _killing_ you." He let go of her arm, but Esmeralda still stared up at him, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I know I have hurt you. Grievously. I know that you hated me more than the devil himself. But if you simply think that I want you only for your body... you are _gravely_ wrong."

His tone softened for a moment. "I cannot believe that a woman who is so wise would make such a grievous error in judgement. On so many accounts. I have not let you go _not_ because I wish to possess your body. I have not let you go because I cannot bear to part with an extraordinary angel who has blazed into my life so... quickly, so violently. It's tearing me apart, just looking at you! And I cannot believe that if I had not intervened tonight, that you would have been lying in a dungeon awaiting execution. That I would need to execute such a vibrant, beautiful, _alive_ woman!"

For a moment, he stood there, his breaths rasping out of him. Esmeralda stood, stunned by his confession.

With sudden ferocity, he crushed her to him, and plunged his tongue between her lips, unable to fight his own violent passions any longer.

He groaned, the sound vibrating against her lips which he coaxed open with his tongue. More and more. He wanted more and more. Frollo tasted the inside of her mouth.

But she still remained inert, shocked by the savage, primal manner in which he pressed his lips to hers. He realized what he was doing. _Stop,_ he told himself. He yanked himself away, gasping for air.

Esmeralda looked up at him, her eyes wide, her breathing fast. her hands trembled at her sides.

And suddenly, she knew what she wanted.

Esmeralda yanked his face to hers and pressed her soft lips to his burning ones. He gasped, unable to comprehend this sudden change. But he was unlikely to stop this. Frollo fiercely responded to her, his lips molding around hers, his tongue mingling with hers.

Esmeralda's own craving, her own need overpowered any sense of judgement. Her blood ran hot through her veins, the cold air no longer affecting her in the slightest. Her arms, once hanging limply by her sides, now wrapped around his neck, pulling her face closer to his. She tasted his mouth and tongue, savoring each moment his warm tongue plunged into her. Oh, she had wanted this. This dark, strange desire. She had wanted to feel this man, this exasperating, passionate, tortured man touching her. And in return, she wanted to touch him now, to make him feel like she was his.

As she kept kissing him, she was aware of a tight coil of pleasure building in her stomach. She ached for him to touch her. Unintentionally, she began to grind her pelvis against his, warmth pooling between her legs. His hips flexed against hers, and Frollo groaned as his own cock began to swell uncomfortably beneath his breeches.

Frollo's long fingers began to pull at the strings of her breeches. He backed her up against the stone wall of his home, his fingers working themselves into her breeches. As his fingers traveled down... he felt her hot, steaming wetness, and instantly groaned, his own desires becoming too great. He wanted this gypsy to scream his name over and over in ecstasy, to gasp and moan under his touch.

Esmeralda gasped as he started to caress her warm, slick center. His fingers circled around a point of pleasure, causing a soft moan to escape her lips.

He buried his head into her neck and began to kiss the skin there. "I love you," he murmured, his voice muffled into her neck.

Esmeralda's eyes shot open and she froze.

The admission was akin to ice water poured on her skin. Feeling her stiffen underneath him, Frollo removed his fingers and faced her. She was stunned. "What did you just say?" she said hoarsely. "Nothing," he said quickly, backing away. "You're lying," she whispered.

Frollo faced the wall, leaning away from her. In frustration, he took off his chaperon, crumpling it in his hand. "I said I love you," he said, his voice grim.

Esmeralda could only stare at him, feeling... well she didn't know how to feel. Her heart felt like it had leapt into her throat, and she found herself at a loss for words.

"Say something," he pleaded, running a tense hand through his wiry gray hair.

"I..." she started, but her throat seemed to close off, only letting a hoarse squeak come out.

"I... I don't think you know what love is," she stammered out, her head reeling.

_Oh God why did I say that?_ she thought. Its effect on the minister was devastating

Frollo frowned, his face twisting in pain. The words were like a slap to the face: humiliating, stinging,_ painful. _

"I may be a cruel man. You remind me of that every day. But don't you dare have the _gall _to dictate to me what I can or can't feel," he snarled.

Frollo walked away, his posture tense and angered. Esmeralda watched as he left. She began to shiver, her thoughts spinning violently in her head.

She eventually followed, regretting the words which had spilled from her mouth.


	28. Chapter 28

Esmeralda and Frollo tiptoed around each other for the next few days.

Each time the two met, it resulted in a series of awkward, monosyllabic conversations. Frollo avoided the woman purely out of embarrassment and shame. How could he have let those words slip? They had simply spouted from his lips, bursting from him in a fiery passion he had tried long ago to quell for the woman.

Esmeralda could not even begin to describe the turmoil that swirled in her brain. Each time she looked at the man, she could remember each smile, his passionate kissing of her lips and neck. His utterance of his adoration. She wanted to believe it was false, it was a slip of the tongue. But she knew, she knew that was all deluded thoughts.

She couldn't love him. It was out of the question. She tried to remember, the tortures he had put her through, the defiling of her body. But her mind was clouded with other memories. Memories that made her heart pound furiously within her chest. Memories that made her flush with heat. Memories that incited within her the deepest of urges and the deepest of tender feelings.

xxx

Frollo could not sleep. He hadn't slept restfully through the night for several months. He would stand before his fireplace, staring into the flames, his head reeling. Guilt plagued him. It was there as he fell asleep, staring at him like some ugly beast. His own passions plagued him, consuming his body like the flames that burnt within his fireplace at this present moment.

Finally, motivated by some feverish urge, he walked out of his room, marching down to Esmeralda's room, and barged in.

Esmeralda jumped and saw the minister standing before her, his breathing ragged and uneven. He stood for a moment, his whole form trembling, quivering with inexplicable fire.

He walked into the room. She stood up, and for a moment, their eyes locked on each other, thousands of feelings of passion, hurt, and confusion exchanged between them.

Then Frollo spoke. "Esmeralda," he breathed, the word his blessing, his curse, his undoing. "Do you know how difficult it is for me to see you? Do you know how difficult it is to simply be in your presence." He paused, clasping his hands tightly in front of him. "I was a man of God. A celibate, pious, respected man. I could have lived my entire existence devoid of the passions that consume most men. I could have endured."

He stopped, his tone growing more desperate. "That is, until you came along. Esmeralda, the moment you danced on the stage, the moment you rose your voice against me, was the moment I submitted. It was the day I was consumed by the most sinful thoughts, thoughts which have led to me downfall." He shook his head. "I became greedy. I decided to take what wasn't mine to take. I-I broke every vow I have ever made. I abandoned God, in order to defile you. To take you for myself."

"And then... I wanted more. I wanted not your body anymore. That pleasure became tainted with my guilt. I wanted your mind. Your heart. Your soul. Each time you rose your voice against me, my own soul was enflamed with passions. Each time you would smile that gentle smile, at children, at Phoebus, at the damn servants, I was jealous. I was jealous that I could never feel that radiance, that warmth!"

"And then... unexpectedly... you showed compassion. Towards me, of all people. Each time you taunted and teased I could feel myself growing more attached, more fused to you. And every damn time you showed mercy... I knew I could never be without you."

"I love you. Ardently, violently, passionately. I... I can't bear to part with you."

But before Esmeralda could respond, Frollo charged on, his voice taking on a new, anguished tone.

"And I know that you could never love me. Never. I see it in your eyes now, and every moment. The kindness you show me... it is because of your nature. Not because of any genuine affection. Because I know you could never love me after what I have done."

He lurched over, his hands grasping at Esmeralda's arms. "I am a monster! Look into the face of your devil. Look into his monstrous face!" Esmeralda could feel his hands tremble against her form. "I took all I wanted. I manipulated you. I beat you. I raped you! I deserve nothing from you. Nothing! And yet I love you! And yet I pray selfishly that you could love me!"

"Words cannot describe how sorry I am. How remorseful I am that I have put you through this nightmare." Anguish twisted his features, and a pang of pain went through Esmeralda's heart. "I will burn in hell. Most certainly. I am a doomed man. But even hell will not be proper punishment for the abuse you have gone through."

Frollo finally let go of her, and slumped down, sitting onto the bed. "How could you possibly forgive a man whom caused you the worst pain imaginable?" he muttered, turning away from her. "I wish I had never been set on this earth."

Esmeralda looked at the man, whose demons tortured him now, ever present on his face. Her heart broke for him. It ached for this man. She could feel herself on the verge of bitter tears. And in that moment, she knew that she had forgiven him. Seeing him now, defeated, broken, anguished by his guilt, she knew this was a different man. His kindnesses flashed before her eyes, replacing the barbarism, the monstrousness he once was.

She sat down beside him. She then wrapped her arms around his form, resting her head on his chest. Then, she pulled his head to face hers, surrounding his cheeks with her hands. "I forgive you," she said, her expression a fierce and self assured one

Frollo gasped. "Why?" he asked breathless.

"Because I know that the man... the man who sits before me is a different one than the monster I thought I knew. You have taught me many things. One of them... is that a man with a will can change. And change he has," she said, the sweetest of smiles adorning her face. Frollo's mouth hung agape, and he began to shake his head, denying that any of it was true.

"You are too kind, gypsy. Too kind for your own good," he said sharply. Her reaction was fierce and immediate. "I do believe that I know what I am talking about when I say that you are not a monster. You never shall be again."

Frollo was overcome with a wellspring of emotions. His heart felt lighter, and he could not mask the gratitude and thankfulness in his face. "Thank you. Thank you," he murmured. For the first time in many years, he began to weep, his tears those of happiness.

Esmeralda shifted as he buried his face into her lap, his tears staining her skirt. She let him lie there, her own heart swelling with emotions threatening to overtake her. Instead, she stayed solid, wanting to be strong for this man, this man who had shared so much of himself with her as to leave her breathless.

That night, she ran his fingers through his wiry gray hair, letting him lie across her, letting him tangle his fingers in her skirt.

And then, Frollo told her everything. Each wrongdoing, each untold truth. Al of them tumbled from his lips. "I lied to you about knowing where the court of Miracles was," he first said, expecting her livid anger. Instead, Esmeralda placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "I forgive you."

Frollo could no longer hold back. He spoke of the abuses of his father, how Jehan and him lived in constant fear of the former minister of Paris. He spoke of his parent's funeral, what had really occurred between him and Jehan. He spoke of Quasimodo's mother, how he had nearly killed the boy thinking it was an unholy demon. He spoke of each wrongdoing, expecting the woman to cast him from his lap, strike him down.

But each time, Esmeralda repeated, "I forgive you."

Finally Frollo stopped, growing tired. "Sleep, judge. I'll wake you when its morning," Esmeralda said gently. Frollo looked up at his angel, the exotic goddess which held her face above him. He slowly closed his eyes, surrendering to a peaceful sleep he had not had in months.

A hot lump formed in Esmeralda's throat, and she silently cried, stifling the sobs which wracked her chest.

Finally, she finished crying, and a weariness overcame her. She looked down at the sleeping judge, whose face looked so peaceful, so much more happy than he ever had during the day. She gingerly removed his head from her lap, careful not to wake him.

She slowly crawled around him on the bed, until she had reached his front. And without delay, she curled up against his body, resting her head upon his chest, her arms caressing him. And in that moment, she felt not an inkling of fear.

The two figures fell asleep peacefully.


	29. Chapter 29

Esmeralda woke up first, her eyes temporarily blinded by the sun streaming in through the shades.

Her face was buried in Frollo's chest, which still rose and fell. Still asleep, she thought. Her eyes fluttered up, and she looked into his placid face, which held traces of a smile. His gray hair was mussed, falling messily onto his forehead. A slight smile quirked the corners of her mouth. Not wanting to wake him, Esmeralda stayed motionless, drinking in the peace that pervaded the room.

She buried her nose in his chest, and breathed in his scent. It was completely unnameable, a musky, wild scent that instantly made something hot and sharp pang in her abdomen.

Esmeralda's heart fluttered in her chest. Remembering the night before, she was overwhelmed by the emotions that crashed down upon her. Frollo loved her. _Loved_ her. That was for certain.

But she wasn't so sure that she _did not _love him. Every logical cog within her told her she shouldn't. But her thundering heart, her quivering hands said otherwise. Her flushed face and tingling body implied a much deeper emotion.

The bells began to toll, and Esmeralda watched as Frollo's eyes shot open. He sighed, then grunted, "What's the time?"

Frollo then looked down to see the gypsy's dark head splayed on his chest, her arms wrapped around him. His eyebrows shut up in surprise. Esmeralda then turned her face to him, her cheek resting against his chest.

"Judging by the bells, about 11." She replied gently.

"I'm late," he grumbled. Reluctantly, Esmeralda lifted her self up, sitting at the edge of the bed. Frollo rose from his place, then turned to the gypsy.

He was struck by the desire to kiss her, to wrap her to his chest. She looked so radiant, her hair strewn wildly around her face, her eyes shimmering brilliantly in the light that streamed through the windows. "I will be back tonight," he said, trying to steady himself. Esmeralda nodded, her words failing her.

Why couldn't she just _say_ something?

Frollo rose to his feet, smoothing his hair and robes. He turned to her. Frollo placed a calloused hand on her cheek. "I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me last night," he breathed out.

"No thanks necessary," she said, a smile on her lips. Frollo then kissed her chastely on the forehead, his lips leaving a hot imprint on her skin.

"No matter what your feelings are for me... know that I still love you. I love you now, and forever. My gypsy," he breathed.

Esmeralda's lips parted, and tears formed in her eyes. Frollo left the room, and once he had gone, she clapped a hand to her mouth. Her head felt light, and she could barely breathe. Oh... Oh!

Frollo loved her.

The words repeated in her mind, each repetition in her mind colored by her different emotions.

But one emotion baffled Esmeralda.

Joy.

xxx

Frollo returned that night, an unusual lightness settling around his soul.

The entire day had been an endless surrealistic blur. Frollo felt so detached from his surroundings, his mind completely occupied on Esmeralda.

She forgave him. Forgave _him_. It was such an unfathomable situation. A completely unrealistic, phantasmatic scenario.

And yet... it had happened. She had embraced him. She had nurtured him. Caressed him as he lay in her lap. Let him cry like a sniveling boy.

But she was not disgusted.

Esmeralda had never recoiled from him. She had put herself forward. She had become a powerful savior, an angel.

She had even embraced him as they slept.

As Frollo rode from the Palace of Justice, his mind suddenly became clouded with images of the woman curved around him, resting her head upon him. How often had he dreamed of them ravishing each other, partaking in the sins of the flesh? And yet... it had been this innocent embrace, this freely given caress, that gave him the most pleasure of all.

_She doesn't love you_, he thought, trying to break himself from the addled delusions which clouded his mind.

_But she cares..._

It was with this thought Frollo dismounted from his horse, and entered into his home, eagerly looking for Esmeralda. He walked down the corridor to the dining hall and opened the door slowly.

Esmeralda was dancing.

For a moment, Frollo stood there, transfixed. The way she danced, lit only by the fire... it was hypnotizing. She looked beautiful. Her eyes were closed, and she hummed a simple tune under her breath. It was... holy.

He gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing. Words... he had lost his words. She was a goddess... once his demon... and now... his savior.

He finally found his voice. "You dance beautifully." He finally said. Esmeralda's heart fluttered as she heard the familiar baritone voice. She turned , and saw Frollo standing at the door. His chaperon was in his hand. The once cocksure, sneering judge had such a tender smile on his face. "Don't stop on my account, I will leave." He said, about to shut the door.

"No... stay," she said, her words careful, deliberate.

He still stood at the door. With a wry grin, Esmeralda reached over and grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the room. He followed, his dark eyes lingering on her every movement.

"Come now, does the minister know how to dance?" she said, her husky voice sounding like music to his ears. She outstretched her hand to him, her heart racing, her mind begging that he say yes to her.

Frollo placed a hesitating hand in her dark palm. Esmeralda led him in front of the fire, and began to move, guiding his hands. She twisted and turned, her skirt blossoming out around her. She moved closer... closer... Her face was inches from his chest. She slid one hand to his shoulder, then another to his hand. Frollo placed other hand around her waist.

She stepped back, directing him to follow her. Frollo somewhat clumsily followed her, the rituals of dancing unfamiliar to him. Esmeralda spun under his arm, her skirt blossiming around her like the petals of a tender rose. She moved closer, gently, slowly guiding him in their dance, delicately pushing him along. Her touches were soft, understanding.

Claude Frollo looked into the eyes of Esmeralda, which had once burned with such hatred. Instead, a fragile, gentle grace was in them.

"Quite frankly, you dance like a lame duck," she said, a beautiful smile on her face.

"I do not have time for such trifles such as dancing." He said, his usually harsh voice subdued, more delicate.

"Such trifles can actually be quite beneficial if you let them," she said softly.

Esmeralda herself felt her own emotions threatening to consume her. Her heart felt so light in her chest; her head, spinning on its own accord. In that moment, she wanted to show kindness to a man who had once spurned such things. The man who had let himself become vulnerable in front of her. A man whom she forgave. A man whom she understood

And, unbeknownst to her, he understood her. Frollo, after watching this bewitching creature for several months, finally knew what goodness lay in her heart. He knew of her fears. Of her aspirations. Of her passions.

As she carefully guided him in their dance, Frollo smiled. He felt happier than he ever had in a long time.

The woman may not love him. But she no longer condemned him as a monster. To him, that was enough. That was more than he should have ever expected.

"Minister?" A guard burst into the room. Frollo stiffened, instantly irritated.

"What?" he growled. Esmeralda bit her lip to keep herself from laughing. Frollo's frustration had a most comical effect sometimes.

"There's another message. From the crown sir." The guard stammered.

Frollo walked over and grabbed the scroll. His dark eyes blazed. "Out," he grumbled, and the soldier backed away, completely baffled by what he had just seen.

Suddenly he remembered the day. April 16th. One day before he had to ride into the palace and meet with the rest of the council.

How could he have forgotten? Frollo opened the message, and there it was clear as day, a reminder to him that the royal council would meet at 9:00 tomorrow night.

"Anything of interest?" Esmeralda said. "Bureaucracy and council meetings. Nothing too important," he said.

However, as Frollo looked into her eyes, he was seized by a feeling of foreboding about this meeting. They would be discussing gypsies. Her people. And somehow, Frollo knew it would not be a pleasant affair.

Esmeralda could sense the grimness Frollo was attempting to hide.

"Frollo?" she questioned, folding her arms in front of her.

He looked back at Esmeralda. And then, a thought occurred to him.

"Esmeralda... please... at least for now... do not venture outside into the city tonight," he said, his voice low.

Esmeralda's eyes widened. "Is the minister begging?" she said humorously.

However he was completely grim, his face filled with a solemnity that silenced her. "Please," he repeated.

"Frollo, I can't."

His hands grabbed at her arms. "For tonight?!" he whispered, his warm breath mingling with hers.

Looking into his dark eyes, she could see a desperation, a deep seated fear that caught her off guard. She found herself murmuring, "Only for tonight, Frollo."

Frollo nodded, his eyes filled with anxiety. His hair had fallen over his face.

Esmeralda's hands rose to his hair, and she smoothed it back, running her fingers through the silver strands. "You cannot ask me to abandon them Frollo," she said, her voice catching in her throat.

With a groan Frollo gathered her in his arms, and pressed her head into his shoulder with his hand. He held her tight against him, and his hot breath tickled her ear. "I know. But I cannot let you get yourself killed out there. That would be too... unbearable," he said, and he let out a quiet chuckle.

Esmeralda pulled her head back to look at his face. There was a weak smile there, and in that moment, she knew that, at least for tonight... she would have to abide by his wishes.


	30. Chapter 30

The Palais de Cite

As Frollo stared up at the ornate structure, an odd, numb feeling came over him. He exited from his coach and crossed the steps, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

This felt wrong. As he crossed into the building, as he entered into the chamber filled with clerics, magistrates, and nobles... Frollo was struck by how greatly he wanted the meeting to be over. If only just to head back home, and see to it that Esmeralda was indeed still keeping her end of the bargain.

Frollo entered the room, and in an instant, the murmurs of the other respected elites fell silent. Frollo's black eyes peered out over the crowd.

It seemed ironic that these men had valued him on the very barbarism that now seemed so... inhumane.

Frollo reached his designated seat, and sank into the cold, hard seat.

Clement de Chagny entered the room, and made his way to the center of the chamber. He clambered up to the center podium. "I now call this council to order," he said.

Frollo dipped his head along with the other magistrates. He clasped his hands in front of him, and straightened in his seat.

"His Majesty King Louis XI, has issued a decree concerning the status of the Parisian moral corruption. I now refer to Judge Claude Frollo's essays on the subjected, submitted on September the fourth, 1479."

Frollo's jaw clenched. Clement cleared his throat. "The heathen race of Paris has increased to an intolerable, incalculable amount. The Romani race, colloquially known as 'gypsies', have populated Paris for a total of one hundred and thirty years. In that time, the gypsies have exhibited themselves as vessels and perpetrators of sin, poisoning the innocent minds of Christian souls. The gypsies are unproductive in society, their acts in Parisian society ranging from minor nuisances, to acts of thievery and cold blooded murder..."

On and on, Clement droned, his reedy voice coloring Frollo's words. Frollo could feel his body stiffen as each of his words finally were read out loud, in front of the hungry eyes of the magistrates. His fingers now tightened, and his fingernails dug savagely into his palms. Oh, he remembered that night he had penned this essay. Every word had been fueled by a avaricious hate that consumed him.

Frollo knew exactly why he had written it. He could not claim innocence. Oh, he remembered everything.

And now, each word made him feel ashamed, made him see the accusing eyes of Esmeralda within his mind, once again judging him. The back of his neck and ears burned as each poisonous word fell from the messenger's lips. He wanted to throttle the man, throw him to the ground, rip that document into minute scraps. He wanted to erase the past, destroy the man he once was.

When had he allowed himself to become a monster? A tool for cruelty, wielding his power with a sadistic calculation that would shock the most coldhearted of men?

"... I now implore the great men of the justice system, the lords who keep their tithes, and the great monarch who resides wisely over our land, to eradicate this problem. Only through eliminating the root of the poisonous weed may the prosperous fruits of the earth feed from the soil."

Finally, Clement fell silent. "Masterful and artistic words, from our chief minister," he said, motioning towards Frollo.

The hall suddenly echoed with a respectful applause. Frollo's mouth felt dry, and his head buzzed. He did not move and tried to be stone-like. _Let it end,_ he prayed.  
"Minister, you will be glad to know that the King has heard your request. As of two days from now, gypsies shall be eradicated from the city of Paris. The king has ordered their immediate elimination. I trust that you will be a most adept facilitator in this process. You have been appointed to lead your soldiers into Paris."

Frollo head throbbed, and his face felt hot with a shameful heat. "To clarify sir... what shall the soldiers do?"

Clement raised an eyebrow. "Minister, you shall do your duty. And kill the heathens which inhabit our city."

_Esmeralda!_ His heart cried out, instantly thinking about the gypsy who lay in his house, unsuspecting of the horrors that awaited her people.

And to his disgust... he did not cry out against them.

"Yes sir," he said. _Coward_, he thought.

No. This was wrong. This... it was not what he wanted. At least not what he wanted now.

But he could not speak against them. It would prove disasterous

_Disasterous for your ballooning ego and prestigious career_, he thought savagely to himself.

_A refusal to the king's order is treason. Treason is death. My replacement would have to follow these same orders. But at least I may be able to slow down the massacre in my position,_ he thought quickly.

Still the bitter taste in his mouth remained as he nodded subserviently to Clement, as he agreed to slaughter the dark pagans which populated the city. _Esmeralda would not have submitted_, he thought.

_Esmeralda is not in your position_, he thought as the meeting ended.

_Even if she were... she would resist nonetheless. _

__xxx

Esmeralda waited in the great hall, chatting with Cosette. She anxiously looked to the door, eagerly waiting the arrival of the minister. "Well miss, I'm headed to bed." Cosette said, hurrying off to her chambers. "Good night!"

"G'night," Cosette replied.

Esmeralda waited for a while, staring into the great fire which smoldered to ashes in the fireplace. Impatience filled her. She had kept her promise. He better keep his end of the bargain.

She heard a bang and she immediately looked back to the front door. Frollo strode in, robes rustling around him.

She grinned. "I was starting to think you had broken your promise, judge," she said playfully. She walked over to him, her hips swaying.

But his face was grave. He moved with a slow gait towards her, no longer filled with the primal vigor which gave her chills down her spine. She stopped in front of him. His eyes were cast away from her. His back was stooped. He seemed to bear a great burden upon his shoulders, one so heavy it weighed his soul down.

Esmeralda frowned. "Frollo?" she questioned. She raised a hand to his face, and pressed it on his cheek.

Frollo flinched away, turning towards the fire. He could not bear to look at her. Oh, how that happy expression would soon vanish once he told her the news! How disgusted and horrified would she be?

"What happened?" she said, concern filling her eyes. She tried to touch him on the shoulder. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him.

"I've done wrong," he said, his voice catching. His eyes, dear God! They looked so desolate, so anguished. Esmeralda had never seen such a pained expression in a man's face before. She stifled a gasp.

"I've done wrong," he repeated mournfully, taking off his chaperon, crumpling it in his hand. His hands shook. "What the hell happened?" she said in a hushed tone.

Finally, he turned to her. "I... I have been ordered by the crown... to... to murder all gypsies within the city borders. Tomorrow night. At sun-down," he said, his voice breaking on the vowels.

A horrified gasp was torn from Esmeralda's lips. Her face became pale, and she trembled. "What?!" she said, completely aghast.

Frollo hung his head in shame. "You... you have to stop this!" Esmeralda whispered. She now twisted her fingers in his lapels, and began to shake him. "Dear God Frollo! You have to stop this madness! Say no! Please I beg you!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide, her face twisted in grief.

Frollo looked down at her. "Esmeralda, I cannot refuse the king. It would be treason. If I refuse, another magistrate will take my place. One who has no qualms in this... massacre," he tried to explain. His hands clasped at hers. He waited for her repulsion. "What about the Court of Miracles? If they hide there will they be safe?" Esmeralda said, breathless.

Frollo shook his head. "Quite frankly, my dear, I do not believe your people can stay underground forever. The guards will be relentless. The king is relentless... because of me. Because of my damned prodding!" he spat, his words tasting bitter in his mouth.

"What do you mean?" Esmeralda said, automatically suspecting the reason.

"My dear gypsy... I was the one who wrote to the king two years ago requesting slaughter. Requesting the blood of your people to soak the streets of Paris!" he said harshly. He wrenched his eyes shut and grimaced, the memory of it so abhorrent to him.

An old anger flared up in Esmeralda. But it soon died as she looked at his pained face. "Frollo. I don't give a damn if it was your prodding that caused this mess. I care about what you're going to do to clean it up!" she said, her voice husky.

Frollo opened his eyes again. Her emerald orbs were filled with determination, with vigor. But not with repulsion at his actions.  
"Frollo... you have to pull yourself together!" she said. "Please? You have to find some way... some way to help them. Please," she said, her voice not faltering.

The judge looked at her. "Why are you so sure I can prevent it?" he said.

"You are the craftiest, most cunning man I know of in this world. Surely there's a solution you can discern?" she said, a wry smile on her face.

Frollo looked to her, and his own despair slowly dissipated. "Only if I have the most cunning of witches to assist me in the matter," he said in a quiet voice.

Esmeralda gave him a tender, fragile smile. Frollo finally straightened up, and placed the chaperon atop his head, taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts. He began to devise a scheme, the cogs in his mind turning at a breakneck speed.

Esmeralda watched as a new calculating look appeared in the judge's eyes. He became before her eyes the master plotter, the solver of labyrinths. He turned to her.

"Esmeralda, there is something I must ask of you. But I need your trust. I need you to have faith in whatever redemptive qualities I have mustered," he said to her, his voice even, placid. Esmeralda nodded.

"I need you to tell me where the Court of Miracles is, so that I may warn your caravan of the plot in the city," he said.

Esmeralda fell silent.

Her face twisted into a frown as she looked up at the judge, hesitant. She looked up into his eyes, conflicted. She trusted him... but how much did she trust him? Would he revert back to his old ways when he found a way to chase away the gypsies from their sanctuary?

_He's going to warn them, s_he told herself. But she heard Clopin's voice, screaming at her. _"What the hell are you thinking?! He would slaughter us! He will slaughter us!"_

Esmeralda folded her arms. "Why don't you send me?" she suggested.

Frollo narrowed his eyes. "Damn it, Frollo! If you walk into the Court of Miracles claiming your men will slaughter them, nobody will believe you!" she said indignantly.

"Esmeralda, you have to stay here. The soldiers may have heard of the mandate. Sending a gypsy out into the city at this time at night is beyond idiotic," Frollo started, but the gypsy interrupted him.

"You cannot just expect me to sit on the sidelines while you infiltrate the Court of Miracles! They are my people! My family!" she cried out.

Frollo frowned. "Esmeralda..." he started, becoming desperate. She had to stay here. She could not go out into the night tonight. In his mind's eye, he could see her being cornered by the soldiers, abused, murdered.

"Esmeralda... please... if you tell me where the Court of Miracles is... if you stay here tonight... I will let you go free in two days time," he said, his voice rumbling.

Esmeralda's eyes widened. _Freedom?_

"What makes you think I can't escape right now? I've proven myself quite adept at slipping from your home in the past," she murmured, challenging him.

Frollo's jaw clenched at that prospect. "I was rather hoping that you would keep your end of the bargain..."

"And what, might I ask, is _your_ end?" she said.

"You stay here... you go free in two days time. And I... I will do no harm to the Court of Miracles. I swear to you on my life... I will never set foot into your people's home again. No soldiers shall be sent there, and there will be no punishment. I will not hold this information against them. I shall only judge them on deed and crime."

Esmeralda spoke in a hushed tone. "I want to believe you... Jesus Christ, I want to believe you! But..." she struggled to find her words.

Frollo now walked closer to her, placed his heavy hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "You still need convincing..." he finished.

She breathed in. "Esmeralda... I have done... terrible things in my past. You know that better than anyone... But I do love you. I would suffer the greatest of pains to keep you safe, and to redeem myself in your eyes."

He dipped his head lower, until he was eye to eye with the woman. "I keep you here because I am a selfish, cowardly man. I cannot bear to think of a life without you. That is why I cannot let you go out there. Not now. But... I wish to make things right, to correct my most grievous faults. I can only do that if you tell me where it is."

His eyes shown with a lucid, sincere luster, one that rendered her temporarily speechless.

Her mind mulled over the prospect. And then finally, she spoke.

"I consent," she whispered, her tone faltering. Frollo nodded. "I will only stay here for two nights. No more," she said quickly, attempting to regain her old strength, her old cynicism.

The prospect of her finally leaving him was like a dagger to Frollo's heart. She did not love him. _She never did,_ he reminded himself. But he kept his face placid, accepting what had to be done. "Agreed," he said.

Before she could say another word, Frollo pulled her to his chest and buried his face into her bushy hair, breathing in her scent. He wanted to imprint that scent, that unforgettable odor into his mind. His heart panged painfully in his chest. She would be gone... and take everything with her.

He forced himself to finally let her go. Esmeralda stared at him, and saw the pain that twisted his face. Her heart ached. A maelstrom of emotions brewed within her. She had to say something to him. Anything.

She tried to regain her composure, and began to tell him how to go into the Court of Miracles.

"... when you are met by the first guard, you have to say, 'may all the meek inherit the earth'," she finished.

Frollo nodded to her. He turned to the door. "Frollo..."

The judge turned, his heart thundering furiously. Esmeralda now seemed so small, so hesitant and frightened. She trembled, trying to make sense of what she wanted to articulate to him. But she could only manage to breathe out, "Be safe."

Frollo tried not to show his disappointment. "I shall," he said.

Esmeralda watched as he exited out into the night. She still felt breathless, her skin seeming to burn after his passionate caresses, his embraces that felt so tight. He did not want to let go.

_She _did not want him to let go.


	31. Chapter 31

Frollo tightened the cloak around him as he dismounted from his horse. He looked down at the symbols of the gravestones, until he found the correct one. Esmeralda's instructions echoed in her head. With a grunt, Frollo pushed the huge stone slab from the grave, and to his surprise, found a set of stairs.

_How clever_, he thought, instantly admiring the craftiness of the gypsies. Frollo pulled his robes up and stepped carefully down the stairs, holding his lantern out in front of him.

As he descended down into the darkness, a dank, unpleasant smell wafted into his nostrils. The smell of death and decay, of corpses and pestilence. Carefully, Frollo stepped down into the catacombs.

His foot nudged against something. He looked down and saw a human skull. Ignoring it, he walked forward, hearing the crunch and crackle of bones snap under his boots. Then, a splash. The icy cold foul water now splashed over his feet, staining the hem of his robe.

He pushed on, trying to breathe in through his mouth as to not keep smelling that disturbing, unsettling odor.

Deeper and deeper he went in, only lit by the small light from the lantern. He warily looked to the walls which were lined with human bones. The skulls seemed to stare at him in foreboding, warning him to turn back.

_Where could it be?_ He thought.

Then, a splash.

Frollo stopped walking, then raised the lantern ahead of him. He could only see the long, infinite tunnel ahead of him.

He narrowed his eyes. The gypsy had told him to bring no weapons. He was beginning to regret following her supposedly "sage" advice. _If I end up with a slit throat..._ he thought darkly.

Then, he heard the clacking of bones. Somebody was out there. He pulled his hood on lower.

He turned when he heard a splash behind him.

Frollo was now face to face with a large, muscle bound gypsy clad in black and wearing a skull as a mask. He pointed a dagger to him. "What do we have here?" the gypsy grumbled, coming closer. Frollo rose his hands in surrender.

"I am here to see the gypsy king. May all the meek inherit the earth" he said quickly, keeping his head down. Frollo peered up at the roughhewed man who scowled back at him.

"This way," he said gruffly, putting away his knife. The gypsy walked away, and Frollo followed.

The smell of sewage and death soon dissipated as he was led into a large chamber. The scent of foreign incense and livestock instead greeted his nostrils.

The sight was one to behold. In the chamber, hundreds of gypsies were gathered. Tents of many vibrant hues were set up in all available spaces. It was an underground city, complete with its own bustling markets, its own population of citizens, its own society! Frollo's eyes widened. How long had they been here, hiding right under his very nose? Even he had to admit it was clever and ingenious. He would have never found the chamber on his own. "Move along!" the brute barked out. Frollo strode forward, keeping his eyes down, and his face hidden.

The gypsy passed by several tents. The tittering and murmurs of the dark skinned people would stop as Frollo went past. He pulled the cloak tighter around his self, knowing full well he had entered the lions den.

"Clopin will see you," the man said, leading him into a finely embroidered tent larger than the others. . He motioned to an ornate chair, which Frollo sat in. "Weapons," the gypsy said, holding out a hand. "I bring none," Frollo said. The gypsy then leaned over and began to rifle through his pockets. Frollo stiffened, stifling a cry of indignation.

"All clear." He called out to an unseen man.

The man left. Frollo looked around for the 'king'. He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, the foreign surroundings disconcerting.

"So, what does this masked man wish to discuss with the king?" piped an energetic voice. Clopin bounced into the room, each limb filled with a frenetic energy. "I come with a warning, from Paris." Frollo said.

Clopin looked at the hooded figure, and instantly narrowed his eyes. "I know that voice!" he exclaimed, unsheathing a dagger. Faster than comprehension, Frollo's hood was off, and he felt the pointy tip of a dagger pressing on his throat.

"Unless you wish to start staining my new carpet, I suggest you explain yourself quickly. You have one minute before I lose my patience. Go." Clopin hissed.

"You have no need to be alarmed you insufferable trickster. I am not here to arrest you for the crimes of which you are guilty," Frollo said, his voice low and imposing even as the dagger pressed firmer against his skin.

"Then what is the meaning of this?" Clopin said, his face twisted in hatred.

"To warn you that in one day's time, your people-gypsies-will be hunted and slaughtered like dogs in the street." He replied coolly.

"How can you be so cool when you talk about a thing like slaughter? You truly have a sickening sense of self," Clopin said, completely untrusting of the genocidal maniac who had stumbled into his tent.

"Before you think cutting open my gullet will prevent what will happen, I should tell you that these orders come from the King himself. Not I. If you kill me now, you will not save yourself from massacre later," he said quickly.

Clopin glared at him, his face surprisingly more frightening without his macabre mask and costumes. "At least I will have rid the world of a bastard such as yourself," The king of gypsies replied.

"You can threaten and tout your title around me all you like. But each minute spent at this stand off will be a minute your women, children are gutted at the hands of the guard." Frollo said darkly. He challenged the gypsy with his eyes, knowing full well of the consequences which would befall the king's race if he failed.

Clopin was silent for a moment, pressing the knife at Frollo's Adam's apple. "You... are warning me?! Why should I believe anything you say?"

"If I truly wanted you dead, I would have attacked your hideout at this very moment. It truly is nonsensical for me to be here." He said cooly. The two men glared at each other, vindictive brown eyes meeting calculating black. The gypsy mulled over Frollo's words, clearly weighing the claims in his mind.

Finally, Clopin lowered his knife. "When will it happen?" he asked, still suspicious. "Tomorrow, at sun-down." Frollo replied. Frollo rose, causing Clopin to automatically reach for his weapon.

"I will stall the soldiers as long as I can. But I can only buy you a few hours. They will leave no stone unturned. Staying here would be suicide. They can, and will starve you out," he said.

Clopin folded his arms, scrutinizing the judge.

"Where shall we fly to, Minister? Not many places shall take hundreds of gypsies. Paris is our home! How do I know this is not just some ploy to get rid of us? A suicidal, mad ploy, but quite frankly, you've never struck me as particularly sane," Clopin said, an edge of mockery in his voice.

The judge bit back an acidic retort. _Now's not the time,_ he reminded himself.

"You may doubt my intentions. But believe me when I say, you are not safe in Paris anymore. You must flee." He said placidly.

Clopin began to think. "The children and their mothers, they will leave. But those who wish to fight... we shall stay."

"It is a mistake."

"It would be a mistake to leave and lead my people into starvation on the roads. Not every city shall take us."

"I wonder why, seeing as your coffers are lined with the goods of the honest folk," Frollo retorted.

Frollo pulled his hood up. "We aren't finished yet, minister." Clopin said, his knife flashing.

"I have given all that is necessary. And unless you wish to lose your one ally in this matter, I suggest you let me go free," he said, softly but dangerously.

"You will not leave until you tell me what you have done with Esmeralda!" Clopin said angrily.

Frollo tried to keep his face smooth.

"She has left the city long ago."

"Bullshit. She's been with you this whole time. Unless that is another woman you drag to Notre Dame each Saturday," Clopin hissed. Frollo cursed to himself. However, it hardly mattered anymore.

"Well, if you are so sure that she is with me, you have answered your own question," Frollo said mockingly.

"If you don't release her-" Clopin thundered.

"If I release her now, she will be a target. Think about it you moron! She will be running amuck in a city where the soldiers are all training their arrows on dark skinned individuals. It would be folly. It is better she stays with me, until the fighting has died down," Frollo said forcefully.

"That answer rather suits you doesn't it? Keeping her there, locked away in your _bedroom_. I saw the way you looked at her that Feast of Fools. Clopin always sees. Clopin always knows," the gypsy said, hissing through his teeth.

Frollo could see the rage and hatred pent up in the acrobatic man. "I will fight for that girl, Frollo!" Clopin said, waving his knife in the air.

Frollo gritted his teeth. He lurched up and snarled, "I will as well! You will never believe me. But I tell you now, Esmeralda's life means more to me than you shall ever know!"

A silence fell over the tent. The silence pressed on both men's ears, pregnant with tension, with words that should never be uttered.

Clopin stood still for a moment. The king of the gypsies was shocked by what he had just heard. Did he hear that right? It was too contradictory to what he knew.

He debated slitting Frollo's throat. But if the plot he was talking about was going to occur... an "ally" in the justice system would do some good.

The situation was so contradictory, so bizarre... Clopin was forced to surrender to it.

"Get out of my fucking tent, bastard! And hope no gypsy buries and arrow through that shriveled heart of yours," Clopin replied.

Frollo was escorted out by another gypsy. As he was lead back up to the surface, he devised his plan.

xxx

Thanks for reading! Please review! -Cgal


	32. Chapter 32

The entire night passed in a harried blur.

From his office in the Palace of Justice, Frollo wrote mandates for the guard, scrawling at an inordinate speed dozens of orders. Orders to check the outskirts of town for supposed illicit activites, perform mundane busywork.

He stayed at his desk all night, only venturing outside to command his soldiers to their duties.

By now, the captain had received his orders. And by now, he was probably trying to muster the troops to

"Minister, Captain Phoebus is here to see you," a messenger boy piped up.

Frollo stared at him through bleary, bloodshot eyes. "Send him in," he barked out.

The captain strode in, his gold armor gleaming in the low light. "Sir,"

"Captain," Frollo nodded.

Phoebus had a look of anger on his face. "Sir, I received an order from the Crown. What is the meaning of this?!" he said.

"I would watch your tone Phoebus," Frollo said, too harried to deal with a captain's melodramatics.

"Frollo... I was not trained to murder the innocent!" Phoebus exclaimed, a look of fury on his face.

"Neither was I, Captain. But in the matter, I am only the messenger! The mandate was given from the crown. Insubordination towards the King is treason!"

"So you'd save your own skin at the cost of innocent women and children?!" Phoebus said.

_I only need a little more time. A little more time to maintain the safety of the gypsies_, he thought. "Captain, even if you have moral qualms with this... order, that will mean nothing to a King's council. The law has been set. Any one resisting shall be executed. And I doubt your beloved will be left alone once her husband has been accused of treason. The wife of a disgraced captain will surely be disgraced as well. In this matter, it is better to follow orders," Frollo stated. Inwardly, the minister began devising of other distractions. _Send the fourth battalion to the Seine to check for vagrancy. Depose the third and fourth lieutenants and replace them with those inefficient louts. _

"You would threaten Fleur?!" Phoebus cried out.

"Captain, _I_ do not threaten her. It is the law and its restrictions which shall punish your family as well as you."

"I cannot believe you! Especially the hypocrisy of it all... you, who keeps a gypsy in your house as we speak!"

Frollo rose from his seat, his face dark as storm clouds. Phoebus remained still, a defiant, stubborn expression on his face.

The challenge had been made. He knew. Well, even if he did know... there was nothing that could be done about it now. Let the captain judge him. Let them _all _judge him!

"We can argue about hypocrisy and its proper definitions later. But right now, you are needed at Rue de Pomlie, along with the first battalion. You are needed to guard the halls of Lord and Lady de Delacour. Remain there as long as you see fit," he said.

Phoebus still glared at him. Frollo still peered at him, and then nodded. "Remain there, as _long _as you see fit," Frollo repeated, in a more exaggerated tone. Dear God, how dense was this man?

Finally, something clicked. The Captain blinked once. Twice. And then a look of realization dawned on his face.

"I suggest you go now... before your insubordinates receive contrary mandates from a much _higher _power than myself," Frollo said, waving his arm to the door. There was a look of calculation in his eyes, betraying the complex machinations of the judge's mind.

Phoebus stood for a moment, completely dumbfounded. Judge Frollo... the scourge of the gypsies... was ordering him to _distract _the guard.

"Don't just stand there like a dolt, abide by your orders! Are you daft?!" Frollo chastised, a sneer on his face. Damnation, if this captain stood dumbly for a moment longer, he would go down to the battalions himself!

Phoebus finally snapped back to himself. "Y-yes sir," he stammered.

"Good. Now, out. You have much to do today," Frollo said coolly.

The Captain strode from the room, still dumbfounded. Frollo watched as he left, and went back to work.

xxx

The minister had never returned home.

Esmeralda paced the front hall all night waiting for him, before a messenger boy had interrupted her. "The Minister has a message. He shall be remaining in the Palace of Justice for the time being."

Esmeralda had nodded, thanked the boy, and he had run back out into the streets. She felt so anxious, so filled with agitation.

Damn it, why did I even agree to this bargain? She thought. She couldn't just stay here! Not when so much was happening outside. She needed to be out there, fighting with Clopin. Surely there would be a fight. No matter how many soldiers were gathered, no matter how outnumbered they were, Clopin would resort to battle. They needed every person they could get. And yet, she now had to stay within Frollo's domain.

_I could leave,_ she thought.

Then, in an instant, Frollo's dejected and anguished face appeared before her eyes. _I can't_, she argued with herself.

Damnnit, why was she so... partial to him? She had never let a man pull her into such deals, such compromises before. Then again, she had never been loved by a man such as Frollo before. He would be devastated if she left. Plus there was that whole matter of his end of the bargain. But... Esmeralda now doubted that he would break it and revert to his old ways. He had changed. As unlikely as it was... Frollo was a new, gentler man. Even if he could be irascible and temperamental... he had proven to her that goodness was beneath the surface.

Oh, why was everything so confusing?

And why for the life of her, _why_ could she not say no to him?

_Because you lo-_ Esmeralda's thoughts grinded to a halt. She felt her face flush with heat, her entire body tingle at the inner musing.

No. She could not face that mountain yet.

There were much greater things to face first.

Xxx

She continued her vigil all night, unable to move from her place. She only left to dine alone, and even then, it took all her might to force down her food. Each time she swallowed a bite, she felt a little more sick. In the end, she abandoned the effort and continued to pace around the corridors, walking up and down the halls.

He returned in two days, as the bells chimed noon. Esmeralda, weary, had finally curled up in an armchair in the front hall, exhausted from two sleepless nights.

Frollo entered the room, beaten, weary. He had done all he could without arousing the suspicion of the monarch.

The more skilled soldiers of his guard had been sent out of Paris on various, superfluous missions. The remaining guard was filled with some of the gravest examples of ineptitude in his army. Louts, braggarts, generally inept thugs who had bought their way through the academy, or had simply been needed to keep the numbers of the army at a formidable size.

But not all the gypsies had been able to escape. Of course, a great portion of them did. But he was informed by one of his officers that some of them had been intercepted by an errant soldier. There had been a chase, which ended in Notre Dame.

"How many are there?" Frollo had questioned the soldier. "I don't know. Dozens. Some women and children too."

He was so weary now. He had done everything... but he feared that it would not be enough to make up for his past transgression that had started this blasted mess.

The king would soon send his sniveling messenger to inform the soldier's of their orders. Hopefully, the remaining scum would prove to be much easier to disarm, if the gypsies still planned to combat the soldiers.

There would still be bloodshed. It was inevitable.

Frollo crossed into the front hall, to turn and see Esmeralda, curled up in one of his leather armchairs. He turned to face her, his mouth falling open. She looked so vulnerable, so innocent as she slept, her chest slowly rising and falling, her face placid. Her eyes were ringed by dark circles. A sharp pang to his heart nearly caused him to groan. She would be so heartbroken, so disappointed when she learned that tonight... despite his efforts would still probably end in a bloodbath on both sides.

He slowly sank down to his knees, completely weakened by the thought of her sadness, her desolation. He now kneeled before her feet , his face level with her chest. Frollo tried not to wake her as he leaned over her, gripping the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white. Why? Why did he have to destroy the hopes of the one woman he loved, the one woman he would die for? He wished... he irrationally wished that it all wasn't true. That he had never sent that damn letter. That she would not have to experience such pain as her people lay dying in the streets. That they could remain together, in their own utopia, segregated from the world and the harshness of the reality beyond these stone walls.

But it would never be this way. Frollo knew this, and a dread and savage anger at the world, at the soldiers, at his _self,_ filled him.

A groan fell from his lips, and Esmeralda's eyes fluttered open, the sound pulling her from her terrifying nightmares.

She woke to see Frollo's anguished face before her. He was... _kneeling_ before her. The foreign position baffled and alarmed her. "Frollo?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes. A sad smile adorned his face, one that made her heart ache indescribably.

His arms trapped her in her seat, but she felt no fear at that. However, she did feel fear because his anguish told her a great deal more. "What happened?" she said softly, already knowing, some bad news was ahead.

Frollo pursed his lips, and finally recounted the situation to her, his voice halting and stiff.

Her lower lip trembled. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back tears. _There's still hope, the soldiers won't be that trained_, she thought. But, with the way he coldly recounted the facts to her... it was hard to deny that some, if not many of her friends would not survive this evening.

Frollo saw her tortured expression, and his heart sank within his chest. "I'm sorry," he groaned, hanging his head down. His arms stiffened, becoming rigid on the chair.

"You did all you could," Esmeralda whispered, knowing that he indeed was a changed man from the one three months ago.

Esmeralda found herself wanting to touch him. So she did.

She crossed her arms behind his neck, her fingers running through the short hair at the nape of his neck. She moved forward, scooting herself closer... closer... until her she had left the edge of her seat. Frollo leaned back and sat back on his haunches, taking her full weight onto his body. Her breathing was hitched, both from her grief, and her plaintive need that overwhelmed her.

Frollo gasped as she settled down on his lap. She buried her face into his chest, into the black velvet folds, and then suddenly feeling the rhythmic beating of his heart on her cheek. Oh, she was so... tired. So tired of resisting. All she wanted was to melt into his arms, give in to all of the confusing feelings that swirled within her.

His arms still remained motionless. "Hold me," she whispered in such a desolate, airy voice. He complied, his arms crushing her to him. He rubbed up and down her back, his hands seeming to burn through her blouse, brand her skin as his.

His breathing was growing ragged. He wanted so much.

Esmeralda turned to face him, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm so sorry," Frollo said, knowing no matter times he said it... it would never be enough.

The gypsy's full lips curved up in a weak, sad smile. She wished with all her heart that things were different. That things were simpler.

She was trembling. Trembling with an anticipation that she could hardly understand. She slowly tilted her head up to him, and lightly pressed her lips to his unprepared ones.

Frollo stifled a gasp as she delicately brushed her rosebud lips against his thin ones. Esmeralda closed her eyes and began to move her lips against his.

Slowly and deliberately she coaxed his lips open with the tip of her tongue. Frollo obeyed, his own excitement causing him to shudder. She... she wanted him! Their tongues mingled together. Frollo deepened the kiss, an insatiable ardor overwhelming his senses.

He moaned, a low sound that incited a deep fire in her lower belly. She began to press closer, pushing her breasts against his chest. Frollo could feel a familiar swelling beneath his breeches. _More. More and more._

Frollo began to slump back, still clutching her delectably soft form to his rigid body. He now lay back on the floor, letting her sprawl onto him. Still she kissed him, her lips becoming more frantic on his.

Instinct took over. His hands began to rub up and down, brushing against her hips, then up to the curve of her breasts. She then straddled him, and he groaned as he felt her hot core push down against his hardness.

Esmeralda pushed her body flush against him. Her skin felt so hot, it burned with flames that boiled within her core. Her head was spinning, and her heart pounded forcefully within her.

Frollo's hands wandered up her skirt, caressing her supple thighs, her well formed legs. Dancer's legs. Her seductive dances appeared before his eyes, her undulating hips, her playful winks...

Higher his hands moved up her legs. Higher, higher, until they brushed the edges of her undergarments, of her hot, damp womanhood.

It was then he snapped out of the spell, jerking his head away from her and breaking the kiss, snatching back his hands.

Esmeralda cried out in protest, a high whimpering sound that sent a carnal pang to Frollo's stomach. Then, embarrassed at her petulance, her face flushed red.

_What the hell are you doing, you fool!_ He thought.

But he lay back and breathed, trying to clear his mind. Hard to, as he was so intoxicated with her.

He did not want to take her into his bed. Not like this. Not because of his own stupid mess.

She was still on top of him. Her legs were still wrapped around his waist. Damn it, when he had touched her she was so hot and wet... "We... we should stop. We're getting carried away," he said, his voice faltering. A look of absolute confusion crossed her face. "I thought... this is what you wanted?" she said breathlessly. Her core still tingled, still panged.

"Esmeralda... I don't want you to make some error in judgement. I've made too many mistakes, too many grievances against you to continue this without some part of my conscience, as limited as it is, nagging me," he drawled.

"You're refusing me? Frollo, I'm practically throwing myself at you." she said dryly. "Contrary as it is... as much as I wish to take you over and over again... I do not want to make love to you while you are upset and fearing for the deaths of your family," he answered.

"Now... can you get off of me before I change my mind and start ravishing you on this stone floor?" he said dryly.

Esmeralda still remained, a stubborn impertinent look on her face. He would break. She was sure of it!

With a grunt, Frollo grabbed her by the hips and lifted her off of him. He spun her around and with a muted thud, placed her on the ground beneath him.

"So, is this what its about? Displeasure with me being on top?" she said, wagging her eyebrows suggestively." "Silence, witch. I believe you need to take a bit of a breather, to clear your _mind,_" he growled.

Esmeralda did not like what his words implied. "I can decide what I want Frollo. You don't need to make that choice for me," she said, slightly indignant.

Frollo's lips quirked up at her fierceness. He leered over her, a smirk on his face. "I know. But... just ponder for a moment. Can you really say for sure that if you were not sleep deprived, anxious, and _out of your element_, you would still be crawling into my lap _begging_ for me to take you?" he drawled.

Esmeralda narrowed her eyes at his suggestion, but she mulled it over. Was he right? Damn, it was too logical. She didn't exactly want logic at this point in time. Especially when he said it so self assuredly, so irritatingly. "For a man who loves me so passionately... you make many convincing arguments so you won't make love to me," she replied bluntly.

_My only fear is that it would not be making love, it would be a meaningless roll in the hay for you, and a crippling blow to the sanity I have left,_ he thought.

Perhaps this would be the only time he could ravish her. By tomorrow, she would be gone back to her caravan, and come to her senses.

If he did take her tonight... she would certainly regret it tomorrow. _Does it matter?_ he thought savagely, remembering how wet and steamy she was for him.

She did not love him.

Did she?

No, she did not love him. Fucking her would just convince him otherwise, would blind him from the truth.

S_he seemed rather eager_, he thought deviously. Maybe...

She could not love him. It was too deluded, too happy a fantasy to actually be reality.

_When did that ever matter to you, whether sex was meaningful to her?_ He thought.

But he instantly answered it. _When she said I could be a good man. _

All the while, Esmeralda watched the conflict brew in his eyes. Her blood still rushed through her, her body needing to be pleased, needing to assuage that craving which boiled within.

Needing to break the silence, Esmeralda spoke. "You are so frustrating sometimes," she said, humorously.

Her voice broke his internal monologue. Frollo ran his fingers through her hair. "Trust me... this is more painful for me than it is for you," he growled. Damn, he was so _hard_.

Esmeralda rolled her eyes, and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Even if you cannot sleep with me... please. Just... lie here," she said, her voice unsure.

He debated it for a moment, then finally moved to her side, pressing his body to hers. She buried her head into his soft, black robes, inhaling his scent.

Oh, there were so many words that sprouted to the tip of her mouth, begging to be released. "Frollo..." she began

But the words could not come. They could not escape from her constricting throat. "What?" Frollo muttered.

Silence.

"Nothing," she stammered out, abandoning her efforts.

She snuggled deeper into his arms, letting him embrace her.

They lay there for a long time, drinking in the peace, trying to forget for a moment, the dangers that were brewing outside.


End file.
